


From Another View

by Beenis



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Humor, Character Study, Detective Kurapika, Forensic Technician Leorio, Ikalgo owns a takoyaki stand, M/M, Melody ain't got time fo dis, Mild Gore, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, body parts all over the place and Cheadle's pissed, excessive caffeine consumption, plot heavy, slight killugon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-18 14:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11876712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beenis/pseuds/Beenis
Summary: The more time and energy Kurapika invests working towards his revenge, the more Leorio feels farther away from him. Leorio hopes to at least go back to the good old days of constant bickering and poorly veiled concerns. If only he could get Kurapika tochill.





	1. Chapter 1

Age five was the first time Leorio ever held a pencil. His chubby fingers clutched the middle of the device, shakily drawing him and his mother. The graphite pushed harsh on the thin paper, Leorio would furrow his brows in concentration, trying to draw him holding his favorite food. Toast with raspberry jam when they were lucky enough to afford it. His mom would hang his pictures near the stone next to Leorio's bedroom, her weary eyes beaming for a quick second. Leorio decided at that point, that he would like to be an artist.

Age ten was the first goal he ever made in the sorry makeshift football field that resided next to his nearly dilapidated school. The dried yellow grass and harsh rocky terrain often left him with bloodied knees and shirts stained with the dust of the ground he played on. The cloth on his shoes thinned out, while little holes formed from overuse. Some kids would make fun of him, most were in very similar, if not worse, situations.

One day he kicked the ball so hard that he fell over, hard enough that not even the strongest and fastest  boy in his class, Yeurik, could block it. He remembered being carried by his teammates, rejoicing in his short-lived fame. Even the prettiest girl in his grade Zelina, had taken a liking to him. They dated for a total of eleven days, until Zelina eventually left him for another kid with better snacks to share.

Leorio realized that he liked girls, and popularity, and attention. He decided, at ten, he would become a world famous soccer player. 

At fifteen Leorio saw his best friend die right before his eyes.

Violence rose and supplies diminished, leaving his village poorer and more dangerous than it's ever been. He and Pietro made sure to carry pocket knives concealed in their front pockets, feeling the weight of the sharp blade kept safely hidden from public view. 

He had plans to travel the world with Pietro. One day he'd live his dream of leaving this worthless town.  Leorio ached for a world where he didn't have to worry whether he'd be alive to see another sunrise. Fortunately, Leorio was blessed with tall legs, broad shoulders, and sharp features, accompanied with an over sized spring coat to make him look a lot bigger than he actually was. It would deter most men from approaching him, and for the ones that did approach him —he was never one to back down from a fight. 

Leorio would come home with more than just a bloodied knee. His mom would agonize and fret over his scrapes and wounds, using cheap homemade antiseptic on his particularly bad leisons, her frowns and worry lines making her appearance betray her true age. She worried about him every night, wondering if Leorio would join in on the rising number of young men in her village taken unfairly, and far too early.

Leorio often wondered how he would die. He was always the fighter, always the one who would never back out from a challenge, no matter how stupid or dangerous, or not worth it. Pietro was the pacifist, the clever one, the one who was smart enough to come unscathed due to knowing all of the nooks and crannies of the village where even thieves wouldn't dare to look at.

He didn't think much when Pietro began coughing. Seasonal colds came and went. He didn't even do so much as blink when that cold turned into fever. Fevers happened. It was never any concern to go to a hospital when all one needed to do was wait for it to break. Besides, the hospital was four miles out and quite expensive for a perscription of bed rest and a few cups of tea. He remembered walking with Pietro to the nearest store for medicinal herbs, half dragging Pietro, watching his friend clutch his heart with a shaky breath, not knowing it would be his last.

Leorio locked himself in his room for a week after that, missing Pietro's impromptu burial. He heard his mom and Pietro's relatives mumble on and on about pneumonia. How it was so soon, so fast, so _preventable._ If only they had the money for just a small container of antibiotics, maybe they would've left the village by now, traveling to a place where money and social status and violence was not their biggest issue. Instead his friend was buried in a dug up grave next to an unmarked area. Pietro's family not being able to afford a proper burial, worried that his body would decompose and rot early due to the summer heat.

He often dreamt of Pietro's face, his bright eyes, always searching, reaching for something he now could never obtain. He dreamt of Pietro's bloated and rotting corpse. A plethora of wriggling maggots eating into his eye sockets and crawling out of his mouth. His tongue long gone.

Sometimes he'd dream of Pietro waking him up, asking to go get breakfast at his favorite street cart. He liked those dreams the best. He'd wake up out of breath with a slight ache in his heart that only had room to be filled with regret and the feeling of loss.

At age 15. Approximately three months after Pietro's death, Leorio decided he would become a doctor.

* * *

 “Paladknight!” Cheadle shouted, calling the attention of the much taller male.

Leorio sat straight up from his originally rested position on the staff couch. On his down-time he liked sleeping. Unfortunately, this job didn't allow for much downtime.

“We have another one in room three.” Her face was grim, her snout in a half snarl that was only saved for times of distress or when she had the unfortunate luck of interacting with Pariston.

“Another one?” Leorio looked at her in disbelief as he made his way to the lab coat thrown haphazardly  on the employee snack table. “How bad is it this time?”

“The body is at least intact.” She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her snout in irritation. “Meet me in room 4 in ten.” Cheadle made a sharp beeline towards the end of the exit before adding, “and bring the strongest coffee you have.”

Leorio threw on his dirty labcoat, making a note to wash it once he got back to his pad.

Originally, becoming a forensic autopsy technician was not apart of his life goal. His charm, wit, and passion were supposed to be used around the living. After all, one couldn't really tell jokes around a cadaver. However, life had a funny way of giving and taking opportunities, and although the initial plan was to become a doctor, working under the nose of Cheadle Yorkshire was something he knew would be foolish to pass up.

After participating in the hunter exams, and miraculously making it out alive (with a badge to boot), Leorio decided this would be enough to pay his way through medical school and fulfill his “work hard get moderately rich” scheme. What he didn't anticipate was him stepping into the world of nen, and discovering the terrifying and unbelievable power it had over mundane human life.

Before nen, advanced medical technology used to fascinate him. The ability to tear a person open and stitch them back up, only to have them be fine in the morning was already an incredible feat. Vaccines, antibiotics, simple powdered pills were able to cure diseases that meant death for a person that lived a couple of decades ago. Knowledge and chemistry, and the passion for life and hard work made longevity possible.

All that inspiration died down in the recesses of his mind shortly after the hunter exam.

Although the respect of the trade was still there, Leorio realized that there were people out there who can surgically stitch themselves back up using only nen. There were hunters out there who were able to heal a snapped bone into place in just mere seconds. Hunters who purposely detached their limbs to make themselves stronger.

And there sat Leorio. Basically living in the medical section of the public library, reading up on how dehydration can affect the body.

Leorio knew he could do better, that he could do _more_ with nen.

And that's where Cheadle came in.

Cheadle was a genius. With extensive knowledge on both medical science and law, she was evidently the most qualified to lead the medical division of the hunter association. With so much on her plate already, she was not prepared to handle the responsibilities of being the next chairman as well.

Needless to say, saying Cheadle was stressed was an understatement. She was straight up burnt out.

In the entire universe, only a very small handful of people had the skills, expertise, courage, and drive to become a professional hunter. Disregarding the professionals, only a couple more thousands knew of nen.

In the time span that Pariston came into office, the number of deaths in the association tripled, as Cheadle's patience shortened. The death of a professional hunter made rounds quickly within the community, causing more time, more problems, and far too much paperwork for Cheadle.

Body after body rolled into her already small hospital, while news of the deceased sprung angry questions and fear mongering among nen-users. Were these murders tied to anything? Was it towards a specific nen type or profession? Who should they look out for?

Bottom line was, Cheadle didn't really give a shit at the moment. Her medical team was far too small, and her patience too far gone to even think about the countless other things she had on her plate.

First thing's first, she needed a group dedicated to solving these crimes. Thankfully, she’d have Mizaistom deal with that nonsense. Secondly, her medical team was overwhelmingly short staffed. She had a total of 10 professional nen users on her team, five who were constantly out in other areas that needed aid. Three were nen-less and stayed within arms reach of the hunter association, since it happened to be the most secure place for a human without nen.

And that's where Leorio came in.

Somewhere along the lines, their paths crossed. Word of mouth came around with information in an emitter, a professional hunter no less, creating a hatsu used to locate tumors and remove them using nen. Ingenious, Cheadle thought. Ingenious, yet useless in what she was looking for at the moment.

But Leorio had basic understanding of nen and medicine, and that combination was lucky enough to acquire him a spot on her team.

Six months after Leorio perfected his hatsu, he was air shipped out to Swaldani City, the sprawling metropolis in which the hunters association headquarters was located.

Leorio remembered being agitated over the fact that his new job required him to deal with the opposite of what he wanted to do. He spent a good six years learning how to save lives only to examine dead bodies. But Cheadle needed a nen user, someone who knew about it's power, someone with the ability to use gyo. Most importantly, someone who knew the functions and the ins and outs of a human body as well as herself.

That is why Leorio currently stood over a very dead cadaver with Cheadle right by his side.

“Baise, female, 23, height 5'4'.” Cheadle read the rest of her file from her clipboard, flipping through the pages to see there was anything important she missed.

The first thing Leorio noticed was the blunt trauma on the back of Baise's head. Her long dark pink hair spread carelessly along her otherwise unmarked corpse. No other trauma or lacerations. The second thing he noticed was how emaciated she looked. Cheadle removed the tarp to reveal her the curves of her sharp hip and collar bones. Her neck was strained and her cheeks sunken. Besides the fact that she looked like she was in the process of being sucked dry from a man sized mosquito, she would have been quite beautiful otherwise.

“Do you happen to know her nen type?”

“Her file says manipulator. She was famous for her instant kiss.”

Leorio raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“By kissing a person, she was able to make them her personal slave for an allotted time.”

“That's pretty genius. It'd be nice having your own personal lapdog.”

Cheadle wrinkled her snout at the comment, glaring and Leorio for a brief second as he muttered a short apology.

Leorio cleared his throat. “She looks skeletal, like her body was somehow drained of all the blood.”

“That's precisely what is was,” a voice came from the entrance of the room. “The attacker has the ability to conjure up an item that has the ability to drain blood from it's victim. It's a unique skill that allows the assailant to delete all traces of activity. Fortunately, we were able to retrieve Blaise's body before she ran off with it. Unfortunately, we were too late on her account.”

The blonde joined the room, his gray eyes staring emotionless at the body on the examining table.

Kurapika turned 22 this year, although his blonde hair and youthful round face didn't make him look a day over 17. He spent his birthday taking a well deserved break from his position as the hunter associations top detective, taking time to stop at the local farmer’s market to cook himself one of his favorite traditional meals from his childhood. At the end of his meal, he walked to the flower shop where he proceeded to buy a small fortune on white stargazer lilies, which he placed gingerly next to the infinite amounts of scarlet eyes laid neatly across the faux ivory cabinet he purchased from a nearby flea market. He glared at the bobbing scarlet eyes for the remainder of his birthday, watching them greet him lifelessly.

Needless to say, Kurapika had some underlying issues that definitely needed to come into light with an extensive amount of therapy.  

Kurapika was almost an instant hire for the position as top detective for the hunter association. Mizaistom was impressed by his ability to track down the notorious phantom troupe. Kurapika's notoriety only spread further as he managed to split up the troupe, killing Uvogin, possibly the strongest member of the team when it came to brute physical strength.

How his 5'7', 130 pound frame did that, Mizaistom did not know, nor did he ask, all he knew was Kurapika was in another league of his own. Not only did the Kurta have a keen eye for detail and the ruthlessness of a seasoned fighter, he had one of the strongest sense of moral justice Mizaistom had ever seen. His motivation to track down the phantom troupe had become so obsessive to the point of being unhealthy. But the hunter association often did not have any qualms hiring people of deteriorating mental states, so long as they got the job done.

As long as Mizaistom could throw small cases at Kurapika from time to time, he didn't care much either. Although the cow hatted man still kept a fair distance away from the blonde nen-user every time he caught a flicker of red in Kurapika's eyes.

Kurapika seemed to break out of his fugue state smiled at Cheadle apologetically. “I wanted to save you some time on your investigation.”

“Thanks for that, but it would be more help to just not have them die.” She took a huge gulp of her grande espresso. Her ears perked up as she finished the cup, feeling a little better about the paperwork she'd spend all her time filling out tonight.

“Leorio and I will take care of Blaise, you can do whatever you need to do for the rest of the time being,” Kurapika said. He'd have to make some phone calls to any of her existing relatives, and make preparations for her body. He was quite desensitized to this type of thing, which made it easier for everyone around him as he took most of the emotional outbursts of the deceased family.

“When did you suddenly become my boss?” Leorio glared at his blonde friend, knowing full well we would've stayed anyways.

“Whatever, I'm going to take a 40 minute dog nap and see how my brain feels from there. Paladiknight, Kurta, I leave the rest to you.” Cheadle walked out of the examination room, cursing herself for drinking four shots of espresso for a two minute autopsy.

Once Cheadle was out of the room Kurapika turned to his much taller friend. “Your birthday just passed right?”

“That was over a month ago.”

“Give me thirty minutes to make some phone calls and we can head out.” And with that, Kurapika turned his heel and headed for Cheadle's office.

“Do you even bother to listen to anything I say!,” Leorio shouted into the hallway.

“Whenever you have anything interesting to mention,” the Kurta answered back.

“I'm gonna be sleeping on the couch, wake me up when you decide to stop being an asshole!,” he called out. Kurapika gave him a silent thumbs up before disappearing into the next hallway.

* * *

The first time Leorio met Kurapika, he straight up wanted to knock the teeth right out of that self righteous appearance. Kurapika, at first glance, was everything he hated in a person. He was a haughty, egotistical, and had an air of entitlement Leorio only saw in the rich parts of town. From his spotless and professional appearance to his bored expression, he knew Kurapika probably never struggled a day in his life.

His initial interaction with Kurapika kept a negative view of his blonde coworker for almost three months, not really knowing Kurapikas role or wanting to know anything about him in general. It wasn't until Leorio had to actually take care of the prick that led to Leorio eventually being kind of ok with him.

He remembered Kurapika being rolled into Cheadle's emergency room, unconscious and weak. Cheadle's whole medical team was shipped to NGL to assist some type of ant infestation. He really didn't understand half of it, nor did he want to, all he knew was that he was the only one in the building taking phone calls and doing runt work while Cheadle was saving a giant ant's life.

“One second he was standing, and the next, he just collapsed,” a man with a set of very strong eyebrows said.

“Zepile and I were assisting Kurapika. He found a lead on the phantom troupe and ran away to capture them on his own. He looked a little weak when I saw him, but after a couple of minutes walking, he passed out,” a petite hobbit like woman replied.

“O-ok, why don't you two sit down there, he seems ok, his vitals are alright, he has a fever but it just seems like the basic symptoms of exhaustion,” Leorio said, checking Kurapika's temperature.

Leorio realized, after a couple of moments, that Kurapika was his first ever patient.

After calming his friends down and waiting for Kurapika's fever to break, he joined Senritsu and Zepile for a cup of tea while they waited for their friend to wake up. Leorio, being a charismatic and all around people person entertained Kurapika's guests, getting to know the pair a little better.

“I'm training to be a hunter,” Zepile mentioned as he gingerly picked up his china and carefully blew on his jasmine tea.

“I'm a licensed music hunter,” Melody quipped in.

“Huh, so what do you do with that?”

“I'm an emitter, I can change a person's emotional state through music.” She patted the flute case that sat close to her. “I also have supernatural hearing.”

“I can see that being annoying.”

“It can be sometimes, but certain noises sound nice, for example.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, moving her finger in a light swinging motion. “Your heart is one of the warmest I've ever listened to. I heard the spike of worry when we came in, even your anxiety has a feeling of compassion linked to it.” She smiled and continued listening.

Leorio felt his face turn pink.

“Kurapika's heart is loud and thunderous. It's emotional and powerful, but it can be jarring at times,” she mused, enjoying the difference in pace.

“Do you even enjoy working with him, he doesn't really seem like the most talkative person.”

“He can be aloof at times, but he's more kind and caring than he lets on. I can tell that his heart is in the right place, although his motivations aren't.”

“What does he do anyways,” Leorio asked, while he was mid-chew of his biscuit.

Zepile and Melody turned to each other, and turned to Leorio.

“I guess he doesn't have worldwide recognition, but he definitely has a name for himself within the people who work for the association,” Zepile stated.

And that's how Leorio came to learn about Kurapika's history. He realized that maybe this guy really wasn't that much of an asshole, but instead extremely jaded and awkward. Seeing how everything he loved and cared about perished before the age of fourteen, it forced him to focus all of his energy on revenge instead of regular, healthy human interaction.

As a person who had to grow up far faster than most kids his age, Leorio didn't have the heart to feel ill-will towards someone who suffered something similar.

His hate dissipated pretty quickly after that, and after a couple awkward interactions and encounters, Leorio found that he enjoyed spending time with the blonde chain user. 

* * *

 “Hey.” Kurapika ripped the blanket off of Leorio's poor body. Leorio sat up and groggily checked his watch.

“Thirty minutes huh?” Leorio checked his watch and indeed, five hours have past. “You seem to be good with time.”

“Can it, I was the one who had to make all those phone calls. Blaise forgot to mention she had a total of 74 jilted lovers.”

“It's 1 in the afternoon and you probably haven't slept since yesterday, are you sure you still want to head out?"

“I had a fifteen minute nap in Cheadle's office, I'm good to go.”

“I'm not taking care of your ass if you pass out on me. You seem to have a habit of pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion.”

Kurapika rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat. “I'm going to breakfast with or without you.”

With that, Leorio followed him outside.

* * *

 “How are Gon and Killua doing?,” Leorio asked as he shoved a forkful of the roe of fresh purple sea water bass into his awaiting mouth. "I try to keep up with them from time to time, but they always seem to be all over the place."

“You probably see them more than I do. Last I heard, they were field training with Bisky, their doing well, as always. I haven't been on any real cases with them yet,” Kurapika replied, taking a bite of his modest omelet. He stared at Leorio’s dish. “Do you always eat expensive fish roe for breakfast.” 

“Only when you're paying, and only when it's my belated birthday.” He shoved a large piece of fish in his mouth to make a point. “Plus, it's the least you could do for ignoring my calls. Mizaistom mentioned you came back four days ago.”

“Sorry about that, I took a personal day off.”

“That makes sense, you were gone for a while.”

For Leorio, hanging with Kurapika was almost as rare as having a proper sleep schedule. Since there were huge time lapses in their communication, Leorio would like to think that there would be a lot to talk about, but more often than not, Kurapika wouldn't say too much.

“When is your birthday anyways?” 

“It passed, last April.” 

“It's April 8.” 

“Yes.” 

“Kurapika why didn't you tell me your birthday was a couple of days ago?”

“I didn't feel like it was that important.” Kurapika shrugged. Leorio realized Kurapika liked to shrug to avoid questions.

“I've been friends with you for almost a year. Sometimes, I even consider you a close friend when you aren't getting on my nerves. I just feel like it’s a social thing to mention birthdays, specially in polite conversation.”

“I have no need for polite conversation.”

“That explains why you kept me around,” Leorio grinned. He'd rather have an honest Kurapika than a polite one. “Well, did you do anything interesting.” 

Kurapika thought back to four days ago, thinking of the hours he spent obsessing over the number of eyes he had yet to collect.

“Nothing in particular.”

Kurapika was shrugging again. Leorio knew to drop it.

The rest of breakfast went along uneventfully with some small talk here and there. Leorio knew better than to mention Kurapika's latest case, and his lack of success tracking the leader of the phantom troupe.

“You look tired.” Leorio mentioned offhandedly. With every meeting he had with Kurapika, the chain user seemed to look worse for wear. Although Kurapika still kept his prim and proper appearance, they couldn't hide the gaping at the collar and the bags that were beginning to form under his eyes.

“I was on the phone with 74 different men for a good 5 hours. One man cried for a whole thirty minutes Leorio.”

“That's not what I —,”

“ _Thirty minutes."_

“Ok, ok I get it. Just take care of yourself ok. I worry sometimes. All the time actually. Pretty much about everything.”

Kurapika sighed, a look of slight remorse etched across his face. “I'll get this whole communication thing right eventually.”

“I'd like that.” Leorio smiled at his friend. “But don't get too good at it, I can only handle so much of you in one month.”

Kurapika's lips curled up into a smile. His expression fatigued, but he was genuinely smiling nonetheless.

Leorio felt his heart speed up a little into his throat. He looked away and blamed it on all the caffeine he'd been drinking this past week.

He made a note to cut back once life allowed him to.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who stopped by! 
> 
> I understand this story could be a little confusing because it follows the canon universe but not the timeline, but it was kind of a slip of the hand and something I just rolled with. For example, it follows specific arcs at different times with different characterers. For example, the Greed island arc technically happened when Kurapika was in Yorknew City. 
> 
> TLDR: story is basically me taking some canon plots and trying my best to confuse you all.

The regular world flowed in a structured, albeit, corrupted form of justice. Men and women put their lives on the line to apprehend individuals who were seen as a threat to society. After, there would usually be a judge, a court case, and a jury of people who decided the fate of the criminal.    
  
The hunter association ran no such system. It had the strong habit of being a somewhat organized chaos.    
  
Besides the very seldom followed rules of the hunter bylaws, there was really no structure to what a hunter can or cannot do. However, one solid fact was that it was a difficult feat to obtain a hunter license, and that these were prized individuals that deserved a higher type of security.   
  
Hunters were quite valuable to the human race alone, over 90% of them being major contributors to world discoveries. Many professional hunters inherited specific traits. Hunters were often people who preferred to work alone or, at times, with a highly selective team. Most had souls of a vagabond and many had a strong desire to fulfill something they couldn't quite place.    
  
There were a variety of different classes and professions within a community, and every year, more niches were added into the selection. Hunters were often far too busy to focus on the world around them seeing how it didn't align with most of their personal journey, which left little time for any professional hunters to work in a constricting environment such as the association itself. In fact, many of the professional hunters who mainly worked at the association usually had other side jobs that left them unavailable for most of the year.   
  
Luckily, the association finally took notice of the infamous acts the phantom troupe collected over the past twenty years or so and decided to do something about it. Over the past two years, the troupe alone killed at least 10 professional hunter, and countless unlicensed nen-users.    
  
The troupe had been blacklisted on many accounts, and there was a long list of personal vendettas directed towards this group, Kurapika included.  Along with various bounties, and  promises of fame and fortune for their capture, having the phantom troupe as a listed bounty from the association came with many perks when it came to their capture    
  
Besides excellent pay, a plethora of information and connections suddenly became available to Kurapika, not to mention unlimited airship rides in most restricted areas.    
  
Kurapika's official title was a hunter association detective, at least that's what he was listed as in paper. In reality, his position was far from that. Yes, his mission was to track down the phantom troupe, but his job was something more along the lines of a hitman rather than a detective. Capturing was only necessary in terms of interrogation, but Kurapika had the right to eliminate on the spot. Being an experienced blacklist hunter was part of the many reasons that led him to this position. His anger ignited through his own personal struggles was the perfect catalyst to becoming an accomplished hunter.    
  
Although his personal journey didn't leave him much room for emotional connections, he was serendipitous enough to cross roads with some people who didn't seem to be bothered by his cool exterior. There was still very much a part of Kurapika that loved life, and people, and learning about the wonders of the universe. That side of him sadly had to be put on hold after the genocide of his clan. Sometimes he longed to get that feeling back, but most days were spent focusing on his ulterior motive.    
  
“You sound better. Like you’ve been actually getting sleep.” Melody didn't bother to look up from her music notes, and she silently hummed a tune that reminded Kurapika of folk songs from a neighboring village.   
  
“The Nostrade case has come to a halt so we have a chance to relax for now.” He rummaged through his desks with uninteresting case files that Mizaistom carelessly tossed onto his desk. He'd get to them eventually.    
  
“I spoke with Bisky today. Gon and Killua should be coming back from training soon if you'd like to catch up with them.”   
  
“I have a meeting with Mizaistom pretty soon, but I'll be in the office until then.”   
  
“Have you gotten a chance to speak with Leorio? He called in the other day to check if you were in the office.”   
  
“I had brunch with him yesterday.”   
  
Melody stopped looking at her sheet music for a brief second, and smiled subtly at  at the change in heartbeat as the medical student was mentioned. Although warm, kind hearts were her favorite to listen to. She always found Kurapika's change of pace to be quite interesting. It was as if the tumultuous composition she had grown accustomed to hearing was only borrowed, and buried beneath it was a heart in disarray. His beat seemed to leap and soften when his friends were around, only to dissolve back into the thunderous sonata she had grown accustomed to.    
  
“He missed you, you know.”    
  
Kurapika stopped rummaging through his work folders, his shoulders visibly tense. At times like these he simply chose to ignore Melody. She was far too smart to argue with matters that dealt with the heart, and Kurapika knew that anything he would say would end up with him being pushed to face an emotion he desperately tried to swallow down.    
  
Melody didn't mind the awkward silence. After working with Kurapika for almost ten years, she was quite used to how awkward Kurapika could be. She knew him well enough to know what made him uncomfortable, but that didn't stop her from stirring certain feelings within the Kurta.     
  
“Oi!” A boyish voice called out to the two hunters. “I haven't seen you around here in awhile.”   
  
Killua had grown taller the first time Kurapika had seen him. The white haired man was almost a full head taller than Kurapika, but his his face stayed as boyish as ever.   
  
“I just got back this week.”    
  
Kurapika walked up to greet Killua when he noticed that the young Zoldyck was covered in sweat from head to toe. Killua decided to wear a long, black, fitted hoodie that made it hard to see how much he was exerting himself, and if it wasn't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the perspiration that collected on the tips of his white disheveled hair, Kurapika would have never noticed how drenched he was.   
  
“Yea you probably don't want to touch me, I'm gross right now.”    
  
“Where's Gon?” Kurapika took a step back from the sweaty teenager, trying to find Killua's spiky haired counterpart.    
  
“I raced him here but I gave him a twenty minute head start, so he should be here in a couple of minutes,” Killua said with a cheeky grin.”We came back from training with Bisky, and he found out you were back in town and fucking lost it.”   
  
Killua Zoldyck was a true assassin since the age of twelve. His steps were naturally as light as air that even someone like Melody had trouble following his footsteps. It's as if he simply transported himself into the room with no trace of sound. Gon, however, was the opposite.    
  
“I think I hear Kurapika!” Gon called out from the hallway. In the next five seconds, Gon's heavy feet entered the room as he pulled Kurapika into a giant sweaty embrace. Normally Kurapika would be extremely bothered by this, but Gon always had his own personal way of worming into people's hearts.    
  
Gon was just a hair shorter than his best friend, but his lack of height was compensated for his gain in muscle. While Killua managed to tone and slender out, Gon grew up to be naturally stocky.   
  
“I haven't seen you in forever,” Gon said in between heavy breaths. Killua tossed him a plastic bottle filled with cool blue liquid, Gon thanked him for the much needed energy drink.    
  
“It's good to see you too Gon,” Kurapika chuckled while pushing the sweaty teen away.   
  
“You're dripping all over him Gon.”   
  
“Ah, sorry Kurapika! I got so excited after hearing you got back, that Killua and I went straight here after training. It's been months since we've both seen you.” The enthusiasm in Gon's voice made it apparent that the workout didn't tire him one bit. He unstuck himself from Kurapika and sauntered over to Melody, greeting her while she offered him some paper towels.    
  
Kurapika's smile faltered a bit. It's been almost nine months since he's last seen his friends. His lack of appearance wasn't necessarily due to the phantom troupe. Although they did take up a big portion of his energy, work and missed connections were mostly at fault. He set foot in Swaldani city at least once a month to keep up with Mizaistom, but his visits were so brief and infrequent, that he wouldn't have much time for visits. Leorio, Gon, and Killua were out and about as well, growing busier with their own lives.   
  
“How long are you here for?” Gon looked at him with such eagerness and anticipation that Kurapika immediately understood why someone as jaded and independent as Killua would manage to stick around. He brought unavoidable energy to every room he walked through, like an annoying ray of sunlight one could only wish to avoid.    
  
“I actually don't know. A week or two at most. My smaller cases are right here in Swaldani City, but I have a couple in Padokea.”   
  
“That's not too far, only an air ship away”, Gon quipped in.    
  
Killua shivered at the mention of his home country, muttering something along the lines of it being too close to where he was currently located.    
  
“Let us know when you're not busy, we can hang out like old times!” Every smile Gon made always seemed bigger than the one before, and Kurapika always found it hard to reject Gon outright.    
  
Although Kurapika would admit that Gon and Killua were probably far more skilled when it came to natural combat, he would never think about dragging his friends into his own mess. There was a very honest part of Kurapika that admitted to himself that human connections were by far his biggest vulnerability. The less attached he was to an individual, the less baggage he had on his already heavy soul. He had no trouble ignoring Gon and Leorio's phone calls if it meant that he could continue his endless search for the hope of quenching the never ending rage sunk deep into his bones.    
  
His friends however kept him going. They helped him grasp onto that tiny bit of humanity and compassion he once was brimming with, and that would always be something he would be quietly thankful for.     
  
“I'll see if I'm free,” he promised.    
  
“I'll ask Leorio too. He acts all irritated when he talks about you, but I know he cares as much as we do,” Gon said bluntly. Kurapika could almost feel Melody's eyes boring into him, her ears perking up at the comment.    
  
Killua shook his head at Gon's comment. It always baffled him how Gon was so sociable yet so dense when it came to social matters. He can't simply tell Gon to “not say those things” because it would always end up with Gon starting an argument asking why it wasn't ok, and Killua giving up on explaining.    
  
"Of course he cares about me, he cares about all of us."   
  
Killua exhaled a sigh of relief at Kurpika's quick save. Gon's frankness wasn't saved for any particular person, he wore his heart on his sleeve like no other. Usually, this would spell trouble for most, since there has always been some unwritten rules on what's ok and what's not okay to bring up, but Gon was never one to follow guidelines. However, for some reason, Gon always had the remarkable ability to not get punched in the face because he always knew when to when to not say something. He'd always bring a person to the edge of frustration before pulling back and understanding. Gon has and always will be annoying, yet not annoying; he was incorrigible, yet patient. He somehow managed to become a true empath without being completely affected unless a problem pertained to him. He was always the person who would dwell on a problem and asked every question imaginable until he found an answer that sufficed his curiosity. Yet Gon was also one to take something at face value. He was the simplest of sorts, and still so complex, that he always surprised everyone around him.    
  
"I guess you're right, he always fusses over me after we come back from a mission." Gon thought back to his cabinet and his increasing collection of over the counter medicine gifted to him by Leorio.    
  
"If you stopped and used your brain instead of your impulse, we wouldn't have to visit him so damn much," Killua retorted.   
  
Gon let out a sheepish laugh. "I guess you're right about that. I hurt my arm pretty badly at our last mission on Greed Island. Leorio actually assisted in my surgery! But he got really angry at me afterwards."   
  
"It wasn't you getting hurt 'pretty badly', your arm was literally  _ detached _ from your body. Leorio was so pissed, he looked like he was about to break your other arm."    
  
"You're going on missions already?," Kurapika said in disbelief.    
  
It's not like the two couldn't handle anything thrown at them. A couple of years ago, he remembered fighting alongside them when he first fought with the phantom troupe. Killua and Gon just joined the team, and Kurapika couldn't tug that feeling of being so disconnected from everyone he was close to. People were changing and growing, while he was stuck on a linear path that he feared he would never finish.    
  
Kurapika decided to refrain from scolding Gon over his careless attitude. He had no right to judge, since he himself wasn't the crowning example of the image of perfect health.    
  
"Razor brought us to our first one around three months ago. Bisky really laid into him when she found out what happened to Gon, and that's why we're stuck in training until Gon learns how to not be an idiot."   
  
Gon stuck his tongue out, while Killua gave him the finger.    
  
"We get to help Kite with his stuff too, so we've been traveling around with him. We went to the Numere wetlands last week and saw a bunch of cool stuff!" Gon went on about strawberries on turtles and man faced monkeys that Kurapika didn't quite know how to follow it all.   
  
Kurapika glanced at Killua out of the corner of his eye. The teen was seated at an empty desk nearby with his elbows on the table and chin rested on his palms. He listened to Gon talk in a slightly annoyed yet almost affectionate way, like he's heard the story thousands of times.    
  
Kurapika has seen Killua fight. He's seen the transmuter rip a man's heart out way before learning nen, and he's managed to get a glimpse of the life Killua lead before he met Gon. In many ways, Kurapika and Killua shared similar circumstances, both having to grow up far too early in the worst ways possible. Killua was conditioned to not have friends, to fight like some hyper intelligent, sentient being with no soul. He knew what it felt like to be cared for, but not have a proper family. Kurapika had a family, he had friends and parents who loved him, and he understood what it felt like to be completely and utterly alone when everything that mattered was taken from him within a day.   
  
Killua's suffering was a solid burn while Kurapika's was a crushing blow to every atom of his body. Their pain was experienced in very different ways, yet suffered just the same. They paralleled each other in other ways, with Killua discovering what friendship and love felt like, and Kurapika trying to remember the times where he had it.    
  
Killua's eyes met with his, and the teen immediately looked away, a very brief blush appearing as he realized he was caught staring at Gon. There was nothing wrong with his actions since Gon's presence naturally demanded attention, but strangely enough, Killua being the assassin that he was, was incredibly easy to read.    
  
"—  and that's how we got out of there." Gon finished his story as Kurapika snapped out of his mental reverie.”   
  
"That's quite a story Gon," Kurapika answered politely, hoping he didn't have to talk about the conversation he barely paid attention to.    
  
"What's going on with you, you were gone for what feels like forever!"   
  
"I had a case that had ties with the Phantom Troupe."   
  
Gon pressed on with his questions while Kurapika covered him on details regarding the Nostrade family, the underground auction, and their run in with the spiders. He felt good talking to Gon and Killua about his own adventure. It was sort of therapeutic to him, even though he was talking about the phantom troupe. There was a time where he couldn't utter their name without feeling completely desolate or where he didn't feel blinded with rage, but he realized, that over time, socializing helped.    
  
"Woah, that's crazy! Do you know where they are now? Did Leorio hear about all of this? He always complains about being stuck in the hospital all day, and he loves it when I bring stories back talking about what Killua and I are up to."   
  
"My team and I were able to get to Kortopi and Pakunoda, but unfortunately the rest of the team fled. Their whereabouts are unknown but I'm trying to figure that out now. I had breakfast with Leorio yesterday, so I got to speak with him for a bit."    
  
Kurapika didn't mention that he almost never brings up the phantom troupe in conversation. The topic always led to awkward conversations and exasperated sighs as Leorio tried to wean him off the idea of focusing all his attention and health on the phantom troupe. Kurapika didn't want to get better, he wanted to get stronger, and let all the rage consume him until he could feel at least an ounce of satisfaction with what he's done so far.   
  
  
Now whenever Leorio speaks to him, the doctor's apprentice learned to make a habit of not pressing Kurapika further on the matter, though Leorio's tired expression doesn't really make Kurapika feel any better.    
  
Kurapika's phone beeped as his alarm clock gave him a warning, reminding him that he had approximately ten minutes to haul himself into Maizastom's office.    
  
"As much as I'd love to stay and chat I have to meet with Mizaistom pretty soon."   
  
"Then it's settled, you're coming out with us tonight! You're only in town for who knows how long and it's the weekend. We can go to Killua's favorite place. They have this dish called takoyaki, and I know you'll like it!", Gon insisted, as he extended the invitation to Melody as well.    
  
"I mean I have a lot of work I have to do—"   
  
"You're about to enter a thirty minute conversation on why you should go tonight, and you're going to inevitably lose the argument. In order to save your time as well as mine, just say yes to Gon." Killua shot Kurapika a knowing look. Kurapika sighed and got the impression that this happened quite often.    
  
"Sure Gon." Kuapika gave a genuine tired smile which Gon ecstatically returned.    
  
Gon scribbled on a piece of paper the address of the location and shoved it into the Kurta's palm before being rudely dragged out by Killua.    
  


* * *

  
The meeting with Mizaistom was fairly uneventful. Kurapika rehashed information to his commander and went through various methods of how he'd tackle his smaller cases.    
  
His job differed a little from Gon and Killua’s. Technically, it wasn't in his contract to fight or eliminate like it was for Gon and Killua, but he wouldn't hesitate if he was faced with the task of doing so. His main job was to find, as he was more of a special informant if anything. Kurapika had always been good at searching, and his growing collection of eyeballs was proof of that.    
  
Gon and Killua took the role of officers, they aided their superiors on bigger missions that sometimes involved protecting humanity from outside dangers. They worked with a larger, more experienced group, consisting of some of the most well known hunters on the map. They specialized in a variety of physical traits such as combat, stealth, and strategy.    
  
Kurapika usually focused on finding an individual or a group of individuals. His role was to contact the rest of the association with a location and a time, but most of his cases ended up with him taking care of it himself.    
  
Mizaistom ended his meeting with details on activity surrounding Mushiyori city. Creatures from other parts of the world managed to end up in and around the city's epicenter, wreaking havoc among civilians. There wasn't any proof on who was responsible for this, but it was very likely he'd have to find out. That case could wait another day, for now, it was his job to investigate the disappearance of Pokkle.   
  
Pokkle was in the same sector as Gon and Killua, only being there a year before the two. He wasn't as skilled or fast his younger team members, but what he lacked, he made up with this impeccable aim. 

  
He was last seen on the border of Swaldani City, waiting for an airship to take him back to the association building. His last witness was his best friend Ponzu, who would be arriving in the next two days assisting as a witness in this investigation. For tonight, Kurapika didn't have the brain capacity to fret.    
  
Kurapika exited his office and dragged his feet on the concrete sidewalk. He felt the faintest breeze tickle the back of his neck as a cold spring rolled into the city. He was so used to focusing all his energy on controlling his nen, that taking a breather and being a regular human being felt downright exhausting. The bright reddish leaves on the nearby dogwood trees scattered along his feet, slightly reminding him of the birch forest he'd run through with Pairo. His chest sank at the thought of  his friend as he ushered his way to his apartment to escape the memory.   
  
Kurapika's apartment was as quaint as he could make it. He liked living a minimalist lifestyle, not particularly because it was simpler, but more because he was raised to do so. The Kurta's were nomadic people, they never had a grounded spot to return to, and would often travel light. Weirdly enough, not having much made him feel at home.    
  
The eyes were kept in a nearby underground hidden location, heavily guarded with nen. They were kept remote for their safety, as well as Kurapika's sanity.    
  
He flipped on the lights and made his way towards his already made, twin sized bed. Beside his desk lamp was the Jupiter flower Melody had given him as an early birthday present. The geometrical flora was in full bloom, it's mauve petals emitted dull phosphorescent lights that seemed to dance along with the dust particles in his room. He grabbed the spray bottle that laid beside it, and gave it an extra spritz for good measure. Kurapika never had that strong of a green thumb, but he willed himself to take care of something as simple as a plant.    
  
Kurapika plopped himself rather ungracefully on the mattress, not bothering to take his coat off. His blonde hair was messily splayed onto the comforter as he kicked off his uncomfortable dress shoes.    
His phone buzzed as he let out a small uncharacteristic grunt and fished it out of his coat pocket. His eyes scanned Leorio's text.    
  
_ See you and the boys tonight! It's been a while. _ __  
__  
For a very abrupt second, Kurapika felt his heart leap into his throat and disperse into his fingertips. He  took a deep breath, calming his nerves from the sudden anxiety, blaming his lack of sleep as the cause of his short lived jitters.    
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fist bump to anyone who can find the very obscure reference to another very popular anime within this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Kurapika, I’m supposed to be your friend,” he said angrily, placing his hands on the Kurta’s shoulders._
> 
>  
> 
> _Kurapika rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Are we going to really do this tonight Leorio?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Usually Leorio would drop it. Kurapika always looked far too tired and sad to even muster up the energy to speak, but Leorio was drunk and selfish, and Kurapika didn’t have that power over his liquid courage._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late, so sorry about that. Thank you all for reading <3 
> 
> This story actually started out as more of a personal challenge more than anything. I've mentioned to my bf that I've never finished a fanfiction story in my entire life so he is now currently pushing me to complete this one, lol.

Swaldani city was unusually cold for April. Pedestrian’s darted past Kurapika, their necks covered with thick scarves and wool lined coats. Kurapika himself changed into a comfortable winter sweater accompanied with a hand knitted scarf his mother gave him before he left for his journey. The edges of the scarf were lined with gold and blue embellishments, and his name lovingly embroidered in giant gold thread, written with the language of his native tongue. Kurapika once thought wearing memorabilia would hurt, but wearing clothes that once held recollections of his old life managed to give him a small sense of comfort more than anything.

He suddenly remembered his mother’s similar blonde hair, her bright and kind eyes that so many people compared his to, her warm smile as she spent hours pulling thread to make a homemade scarf for her son that always seemed to overstep his boundaries a bit too much. He missed her so much. The scarf seemed to hold her essence, willing for him to come home. 

Kurapika was always an adventurous kid. He often found himself in precarious situations that Pairo was kind enough to pull him out of, but his mother never once stopped him from being himself. She was almost too supportive of his reckless behavior, and he never thanked her enough for it. 

This is why he usually preferred working; staying in one place and losing himself in his thoughts always caused his heart to ache in one way or the other. He could almost smell her homemade stew brewing when he came home, only for his nose to be picking up another type of scent. 

The smell of fried food and the sound of camaraderie came from inside his destination. Kurapika looked at the restaurant, pulling out a piece of paper that held Gon’s chicken scratch writing. Squinting, he attempted to make out the word “IKALGO” written in giant letters, and with smaller characters written under it. Kurapika tried to make out the foreign alphabet. 

_ Ta.. Ko.. Ya… _

“It’s takoyaki,” Leorio said as he walked up to his shorter friend. “Apparently it’s Japanese. I only know this because Killua’s taken me here before”, he said before Kurapika could ask him how he knew that information. 

Kurapika glanced up at Leorio, taking in his appearance. The doctor’s apprentice sported an un-shaved stubble accompanied by his laboratory coat. 

“Do you usually wear your lab coat everywhere you go?” Kurapika mused. 

“I forgot my coat, and it’s freezing out here. It was either look ridiculous or get hypothermia.”

Kurapika shook his head in amusement as he pulled back the blue curtain for Leorio. “Shall we?” Leorio nodded as he carefully ducked under the tiny door. 

The restaurant was much bigger on the inside, and exuded a strong energy that can only be linked to the start of the weekend. A chameleon humanoid bumped into Kurapika, his eyes nearly popped out of his sockets and he managed to keep the tray of drinks steady. 

“Sorry about that!” The chameleon uncurled his tail as he looked past Kurapika. “Ah, welcome back Leorio! A friend of yours?” he asked, as one of his eyes focused on Kurapika. 

“Yea, we’re here to meet Gon and Killua. You see em around here?” 

“They’re in the back chatting with Ikalgo.” His other eye pointed to the direction of another opened room.

Leorio thanked him as he guided Kurapika in the correct direction. “My name is Meleoron by the way. Let me know if you need anything!”, the lizard man called out as he finished the drink orders for the table next to him

They approached a back entrance at the end of the restaurant, a cozy private room with tables low to the ground and pillows used as makeshift chairs. His eyes scanned the room as he witnessed Killua and a giant octopus engaging in a heated argument. His large, thick eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance as he continued to yell at the teen.

“How the hell is this a takoyaki restaurant if you don’t serve octopus!” Killua shouted.

“That’s sick, and you know why!” The octopus growled back.

“I’m just saying it’s pretty weird running a restaurant that specializes in octopus without actually serving any,” Killua sneered, popping a golden deep fried ball into his mouth. “Just as I suspected, no octopus.”

“That’s cause you ordered shrimp you brat!” Ikalgo fumed. Kurapika wondered if he was going to start choking Killua with one of his tentacles. The thought was comical, yet disturbing. 

“I chose shrimp because you DON’T. FUCKING. SERVE. OCTOPUS.”

“Why you little —,” Ikalgo was near ready to lunge at the assassin, when Gon placed a hand on the cephalopod. 

“He’s just messing with you Ikalgo. Killua loves your food, that’s why he always recommends this place to us.” Ikalgo’s large mouth quickly turned upwards from his previous grimace. “In fact, he was telling me all about how excited he was to come here.”

Killua gaped at Gon as though his friend has somehow sold him out. Ikalgo beamed as he pulled Killua into a huge octopus hug, ruffling his hair in the process. 

“Get away from me you stupid octopus,” Killua said, with much less fervor and much more embarrassment. 

Leorio laughed and motioned for Kurapika to sit in the table adjacent from him.

“Ah, new friend?,” Ikalgo said, looking up mid noogie. Killua wrestled himself out of the octopus’s embrace as he tried to fix his already messy hair. 

“This is Kurapika. He’s actually an old friend of ours. We were lucky enough to catch him out of work.” Leorio sat down and helped himself to the takoyaki on the table. 

“Any friend of Gon and Killua is a friend of mine,” the octopus spoke proudly. “Alright then, I have a restaurant to take care of. Before you leave, did any of you want drinks?”

“I’ve always wanted to try the house sake,” Gon said, as he scanned the drink menu. 

“It tastes like shit Gon, you won’t like it.”

“Says, you! Ikalgo can I get one sake?” 

Killua rolled his eyes at his best friend as he himself ordered a triple chocolate milkshake. 

“Alcoholic?” 

“Like it would even do anything,” Killua sighed. Killua had often heard the joys of being drunk, but unless he consumed dangerous amounts of it, he wouldn’t feel a thing. With the shit he had to deal with for the past couple of years after meeting Gon, he often wished he could feel the effects of excessive alcohol consumption. 

“Anything for you men?” he motioned his tentacle at Leorio and Kurapika. 

“Just a beer,” Leorio said. 

Kurapika looked at the drink menu to see if there was anything worth getting. He wasn’t much of a drinker and he hadn’t had anything to eat since noon, so he decided to go with the smarter choice. 

“Water is fine for—”

“Get him a beer, put it on my tab,” Killua said quickly, before Kurapika had a chance to finish. 

“I don’t really drink.”

“Be grateful you  _ can  _ be affected alcohol. Let me live vicariously through you.”

“That’s quite nice of you, but I’d rather not. I haven’t even eaten yet.”

“Jesus Kurapika, Food is on it’s way and it’s a Friday. Plus, I paid for it. Just enjoy the damn beer, one drink won’t hurt you.” Although Kurapika hated to be the victim of peer pressure, there was no malice in Killua’s voice, and having Gon vehemently nod in agreement didn’t really make it easier to say no. 

“Ok, ok. One drink.”

The table cheered in unison as Meleoron soon came by to deliver their beverages. They toasted to something indiscriminate as Gon threw back a shot of warm sake. 

"This is dusgusting[!](https://youtu.be/N19NoKukWTM?t=3m21s) ” He stuck his tongue out and scowled, feeling the warm liquid set uncomfortably in his stomach. 

“I told you so.” 

“Yea but you know I’m an idiot,” Gon frowned as he glared at his drink. Killua laughed and placed a second milkshake order for himself, sliding his previous one over to Gon. 

“You’re the best!” Gon grinned.

“Yea, yea. Start drinking it before I change my mind.”

The air in the room was light and n ostalgic, with the four friends sharing old memories as they kept each other up to date with newer plans.Gon continued on about a case he took on with Killua, as Kurapika watched with the utmost attentiveness. Leorio’s eyes wandered to his blonde friend. He studied Kurapika, from his medium length hair, to his soft face and pointed chin, to his eyes that often held a look of world weariness. Le orio felt a slight tug on the left side of his chest as he moodily drank his beer. He missed Kurapika more that he cared to admit, and he started to resent the hypothetical wall he felt with his friend. 

“Is there something on my face?” Kurapika asked, not bothering to take his eyes off the two teens. 

“Nothing worth noting. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Heat rose from Leorio’s neck up to his cheeks. He knew it was a weak jab, but anything was better than him having no explanation why he was starting so intently.

Kurapika shrugged and continued listening in on the conversation. Ikalgo joined in not much later, as the trio started another story on their chimera ant adventures, which Kurapika and Leorio really had no place in. The foreign story eventually became background noise to them as they were seemingly forced to interact with each other

“How are you doing?” Leorio asked, as he picked the room temperature takoyaki with his toothpick. 

“You saw me a couple of days ago.”

“I mean.. A lot could happen in a day, with you being busy and all that.” Leorio trailed off, awkwardly taking another sip of his beer. He saw Kurapika doing the same, both copying each other in their odd form of avoiding small talk. Looking at a cellphone would have been too rude and obvious, but eating and drinking were socially acceptable ways of trying to avoid conversation, even for a moment. 

“I haven’t done much, just a couple of meetings with Mizaistom.”

“Melody didn’t come today?”

“She says bars and restaurants are too loud.”

"Ah okay," Leorio muttered. He poked at his takoyaki with his toothpick, not knowing how to continue with this conversation.

Leorio didn’t really know when their relationship became like this. The longer Kurapika was gone, the more it felt like part of him was missing. It was messed up how he longed for old times where Kurapika was younger, less tired, and more angry. He realized a Kurapika who showed emotion was better than someone who didn’t show it at all. He noticed the tiredness got worse with every visit, the heightened reclusiveness, and how Kurapika no longer wanted to talk to him about things that  _ mattered,  _ things that Leorio would very much want to take the time to help with. Hell, he even missed the bickering that drew him to Kurapika in the first place.

He tried pressing these issues multiple times, with each ending in some type of backlash or half hearted answer. Their relationship had whittled down to a lunch every couple of months or so, that consisted of small talk and carefully avoided topics.  Leorio wished that he could somehow enter even a small portion of Kurapika’s mind. The longer Kurapika left, the more he declined to mention anything, and the farther their already diminishing friendship fell. 

They sipped a bit faster now, realizing they no longer had anything to say to one another. All small talk had been covered over their brunch, and Leorio couldn’t even make shit up, even if he wanted to. 

They were halfway onto their third drink, and Leorio realized he was feeling more than a little tipsy at this point. The taste of alcohol stuck against his tongue, and he realized that he liked the feeling of being buzzed. He wondered what other topic he could bring up, but came up empty. 

“Have you been with anyone recently?” Leorio said out of the blue, cursing at how his mouth acted before his brain.

“Been with anyone?” Kurapika raised an eyebrow, his cheeks were flushed a little pink from the alcohol as he crossed his arm at Leorio’s question. 

“Like I don’t know, dated? Maybe more than dated. Hooked up, fell in love, did the horizontal tango with.” Leorio knew he was word vomiting at this point. He’d blame it on the alcohol tomorrow.

“I don’t really see how that’s important.”

“Nothing we’re talking about is important! It’s all dumb small talk, cut me some slack here.”

“I haven’t,” Kurapika said after a while, taking a small sip of his beer. 

“Ever?”    


“No.”

“Have you ever thought about it?” 

“I haven’t had the need nor time for one.”

“What about want. Have you ever wanted to be with anyone?” Leorio was pushing the subject. He knew he was, but this was past the point of awkward and he was drunk enough to not care for the moment. 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I don’t really give a damn if it’s relevant, but since you don’t want to answer me I’m just going to assume that’s a yes.”

“You’re insufferable.” Kurapika sat up straighter, his fists clenched tight on the table.

“And you’re probably angry all the time since you haven’t ever gotten any—,”

“Have you no class?!” The blonde was fuming now, half from anger and half from embarrassment. Conversations with Leorio had been tame up to this point, where he was caught so off guard by such a juvenile question.

Leorio tried not to laugh. Although Kurapika was livid, the air was lighter between them. They were arguing over something stupid, but Kurapika was actually talking to him with emotion other than weariness.

Leorio chuckled, infuriating Kurapika even more. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“Nothing at all, I just miss messing with you.”

“Must you always be so immature?”

“Around you, yes. You react so strongly, it’s really hard not to pass it up,” he grinned, as he clinked his glass with Kurapika’s, downing the rest of his beer in one gulp. 

“You might want to slow down on those.” 

“I know what I’m doing, I’m studying to be a doctor.”

“And what exactly are you doing?” Kurapika asked, his eyebrow raised in judgement. 

“Getting drunk.” He eyed the rejected sake and poured two shots. “You want in?” 

To his surprise, Kurapika grabbed the bottle of rice wine, pouring himself a decent amount. 

“Sure.”

* * *

The quartet stayed a little past closing time, sharing a drink or two with Ikalgo. The octopus mentioned everything was on the house, with Killua cursing at him, throwing wads of jenny onto the octopus.

“Trust fund brat,” Ikalgo whispered under his breath as he wriggled back into the kitchen. 

Kurapika had no idea how it came to this, but he was beyond tipsy. He stood up and immediately placed his hand on the low table for support. 

“You okay there Kurapika?” Gon asked, as he tried to drink the last remnants of his third milkshake. 

“Yea, just a little tired.” He lied, trying to keep the room from spinning. 

Kurapika wondered how he got so drunk. All he remembered was that the silence was infuriating, and he needed something to do something to pass the time. He wasn’t the type of person to easily get intimidated, and he wasn’t the type to do something he didn’t want to, but part of his conscious willed himself to stay for the rest of the night. He missed Gon and Killua, and he missed his tall spiky haired doctor friend who he stupidly matched drinks with. Although they barely communicated for most of the night, he  _ wanted  _ to be here. 

“I’m so glad you came today, I had a lot of fun seeing you guys!” Gon ran up to him, giving Kurapika a tight squeeze. 

“Let go you idiot, if you move him anymore, you’ll probably be covered in regurgitated takoyaki in the next few minutes.” Killua slung his arm around Gon’s shoulder, slowly dragging his friends away from the blonde. 

“You ok getting home old man? Or do we have to assist you?,” Killua called out before exiting. 

“I think we’re good. My house is on the way to Kurapika’s so we’ll walk together.”

Killua nodded as he walked out of the restaurant with his best friend in tow. 

Kurapika mumbled his goodbyes, as he tried to drink the rest of his water, although he knew hydration wouldn’t help much at this point. 

“Shit,” he cursed, as he supported himself on the nearest wall. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.” Kurapika felt Leorio link their arms together, as he drunkenly navigated his way to the exit. 

“How are you not drunk?” Kurapika asked in disbelief as he clutched Leorio’s sleeve tighter. 

“Oh I’m fucking trashed, I’m just better at this than you are.”

“Leorio you don’t live anywhere near me,” Kurapika muttered, too inebriated to argue further.

“And you can barely walk.”

“I don’t need you to coddle me”

“Yea and I don’t need to hear shit for you right now. Just let me take you home.”

Kurapika snickered at the suggestive comment. 

“Turn six will you.”

“I actually turned twenty two five days ago.”

“I forgot how smart of a mouth you have when it isn’t shut tight the whole time. Well next time you have a birthday, remember to invite me.”

“I just need to see you guys more often,” Kurapika says softly, trying his hardest to walk in a straight line. 

“Are you saying you miss us?” Leorio half joked. The air was cold and his lab coat did little to warm him, but he felt Kurapika’s arm looped through his own gangly one and he suddenly didn’t mind all too much. 

“Yea. I missed you guys a lot.” 

Leorio stopped at the blunt confession. There had always been a very honest part of Kurapika that he usually had no trouble hiding. Leorio witnessed it when he interacted with the Kurta earlier into their friendship. Somehow he still showed this part of himself to a select couple of friends, none being Leorio. 

“I missed you too.” Leorio’s breath stopped in his throat as he awaited Kurapika’s reaction. 

“I’m sorry about not filling you in on things, they’re just hard to talk about,” Kurapika replied, not missing a beat. The cold air sobered him up a bit, but the ground still spun a little when he stood still.

“I want to hear about it, it’s not healthy keeping it all in you know.” He stared down at Kurapika, only really being able to see the top of his head. Leorio had always been far too tall for his own good. 

“You always tell me that,” Kurapika chuckled. “We got into so many fights about it.”

“It was more like you’d get up and ignore me, and after a while when you felt like it, you’d decide to speak to me.” 

Leorio remembered days that would pass where he would obsess over his phone, wondering if he stepped out of line over pushing the topic just a little too much. He admitted to himself that he knew he could be intrusive at times, and that often didn't mix well with Kurpika’ naturally private behavior, but the way Kurapika shunned him just felt so  _ unfair. _

“Leorio, you have to realize that you can’t help everyone.”

“But you aren’t just anyone,” Leorio sighed as he suddenly let go of Kurapika’s arm. They were in the front of his apartment complex and they have been for the past five minutes or so. 

Kurapika glared at him over the loss of secure balance. 

“Kurapika, I’m supposed to be your friend,” he said angrily, placing his hands on the Kurta’s shoulders. 

Kurapika rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Are we going to really do this tonight Leorio?”

Usually Leorio would drop it. Kurapika always looked far too tired and sad to even muster up the energy to speak, but Leorio was drunk and selfish, and Kurapika didn’t have that power over his liquid courage. 

“Will there be a next time? You leave for months on end and I have no way of contacting you, and I feel like you aren’t even there half the time. This is the first night in a while that I felt you be yourself around me, and you have to be piss drunk to let your guard down around me. I’m not someone you should have to do that to.” Leorio squeezed his shoulders a little tighter, not enough to hurt, but enough to make Kurapika flinch. 

The street lamps saturated the blonde’s face with hues of light yellow and deep blue. Kurapika’s  eyes flashed red for a brief moment. 

“I know this is hard for you to understand, but for your own sake, stay out of my business.”

“Well that’s not going to happen, so you need to think of another plan. Unless you really want our friendship to just be watered down versions of ourselves waving awkwardly at each other from across the hallway.” 

Kurapika sat down on the top of his stoop, his hand cradling the start of an early headache. He suddenly felt extremely tired. He honestly did view Leorio as one of his closest friend, and it frustrated him to know how obtuse he came off. He didn’t know when he started to feel so far from all his friends, all he knew is after collecting the first pair of scarlet eyes, the darkness within his heart only continued to fester. He often tried to avoid Leorio because he was the only person that cared enough to point out his flaws, but deep down, he knew Leorio was right. He was slipping further and further away from who he once was, and that already thin sliver of compassion Leorio offered would soon cease to exist. 

“I don’t want that. Give me time to sort out everything okay?” 

“Yea.” Leorio sighed and stepped back, sober enough to know that this probably wasn’t the best time to fix months of damage. 

Kurapika took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Give me time,” he repeated.

“Look Kurpika, I don’t want to force you to deal with something—.”

“Sometime this week, I promise.” He stood up slowly, his posture shaky. Leorio walked up to him, helping his shorter friend with his balance. 

“Hold still, there’s a thing,” Leorio said, as he fussed over Kurapika’s hair, brushing off a stray dogwood leaf. 

Leorio’s right hand gripped Kurapika’s side in hopes to steady his drunk friend. He  didn’t really know what willed him to do it, but he reached over to brush a few stands of gold hair behind the Kurta’s ear. Kurapika’s single red earring glimmer tauntingly, willing him to move closer. 

“You need a haircut,” he said hastily. He let go of the hold he had on Kurapika, almost regretting it immediately.

Leorio turned around to leave when Kurapika called out after him.

“Wait.” 

The blonde clumsily unwrapped the scarf around his neck and handed it to Leorio. 

“It’s freezing. You can borrow this for now, just bring it back the next time we meet.

Kurapika wobbled into his apartment, turning around briefly to give a half-assed wave.

Leorio stood outside of Kurapika’s apartment for a moment, dumbfounded. He touched the soft, thick material of the scarf, smiling at the collateral used as a promise to see each other again. 

Leorio walked alone for the rest of the way home, feeling much warmer than he’s felt in quite some time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Killua/Gon is now officially in the tags! Although they're not the primary pairing, they will be prominent in the next couple of chapters, so stay tuned for that if they're yo thang.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Hey, do you think you can come to the examination room in the next twenty minutes or so?"_
> 
>  
> 
> Cheadle's voice was anxious as she spoke, her tone making Leorio feel uneasy in the comfort of his own room.
> 
>  
> 
> _"We have another one Paladiknight, and this one seems personal."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: slight gore or a lot of gore. depends on your gore threshold tbh. minor character death.. 
> 
> Sorry for the late update, I went on a mini vacation this past week and it took me a while to get back into the swing of things. I hope you're all doing well!

Leorio resisted the urge to throw his phone at the nearest wall,wl as the loud blare of his alarm resonated in his empty apartment. He blindly grabbed for his nightstand, making a note to change the ringtone to something less jarring.

He squinted at his phone as the neon lights mocked him with the numbers 3:56AM. The screen read "Dr. Cheadle Yorkshire". 

"Shit." 

His head was pounding, and sitting up straight only managed to send a slight wave of nausea down to his stomach. Leorio quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the ringing ended, only to repeat itself again as Cheadle tried to reach him for the sixth time. 

He groaned as he pressed the answer button, his aching body regretting the decision immediately.

"What's up doctor?" Leorio tried to muster up the most professional voice he could manage, only to sound like a strangled toad.

_"Hey Leorio, do you think you can come to the examination room in the next twenty minutes or so?"_  

Cheadle's voice was anxious as she spoke, her tone making Leorio feel uneasy in the comfort of his own room.

_ "We have another one Paladiknight, and this one seems personal." _

* * *

Cheadle sat next to Pokkle's body, her gloved fingers nursing cheap instant coffee she managed to find in the employee lounge. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to keep herself in check.

Usually, death didn't bother her. She's seen a lot of it in her young life, being a three star hunter herself. However, even she couldn't deny the fear creeping into her skin. She was a doctor, not a fighter. She may be a support at most, and as much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't as strong as the other members of the zodiac.

Although she held the official title of chairman, she was nowhere near the same caliber as Netero. Even Ging and Pariston were in leagues of their own, using stealth and intellect in situations where she couldn’t match even if she tried. 

_"What a load of bullshit",_ Cheadle thought.  

She felt utterly and completely powerless as more bodies appeared. Cheadle was confused as to how the previous chairman could turn the other cheek with the rising murder counts. She wondered if Netero never cared simply because he never saw anything thrown at him as an actual threat.  

Leorio knocked on the open door to signal his arrival. He walked in with the clothes he'd worn from the night before, the only addition being the thick scarf that wrapped snugly around his neck.

He stood a good distance from Cheadle, and the remains of what lay next to her. He found himself rooted near the entrance, the smell of old blood invading his nostrils. He glanced at the body, spotting tufts of light peach hair scattered on the cold metal table. 

"Jesus," Leorio whispered under his breath. "Is that all of him?" he asked, as he hesitantly made his way towards his boss.

"Well I'm not going to piece him together like a bunch of lego bricks Leorio," she said irritably.

Leorio held his tongue and said nothing else. She only called him by his first name in circumstances where she was under extreme stress. He brought Kurapika's scarf up to his nose, covering the putrid smell.

He learned to treat a cadaver like a 3-D model, focusing on studying effects on the human body, instead of the death the previous owner. However, those bodies were often soaked in formaldehyde and kept in one piece, with their face covered in respect and anonymity. In this case, Pokkle's head faced him and Cheadle, his eyes half lidded and mouth slightly agape.

The organized pile of flesh lay before him, blue and black and dark brown with perfect lacerated marks grazing the skin. His body was left in terrible condition, with wood and dirt stuck into the flesh blocks.The remains of his organs lay in a giant plastic bowl, where Leorio could barely make out the shape of a large intestine. Bits of tendon were placed along the tarp, along with questionable decomposing clumps of who knows what lay to the top right of the table. ‘

He felt like he stepped out of the examination room and into a butchery. Besides the strong smell of gore and blood, there was actually not a lot of liquid on the table. Leorio could tell how all of his blood was previously drained, like a freshly slaughtered cattle chopped up into chunks and waiting to be sold by the pound. 

"Knuckle and Shoot were kind enough to bring the remains here. They wanted to stay but I managed to convince Knuckle to go home."

Leorio nodded in understanding. Pokkle had been trained under Knuckle and Shoot. Seeing his former apprentice in this condition must have devastated them. 

They stood there for a moment or two, as Lorio and Cheadle grieved in their own awkward way. Neither had particularly close ties with the beast hunter, but Pokkle worked for the association, so he felt like an extended family at best.

Cheadle slid off the stool she was sitting on, only to grab the clipboard to sullenly read Pokkle’s status. 

"Male. 24. Height: 5'6". Status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Currently Unknown. Time of death: estimating at least a day or two."

"Any other evidence,?" Leorio asked, as he grabbed the gloves Cheadle graciously threw at him.

Cheadle's entire body stiffened. She fished through the breast pocket of her lab coat, until her hand laid on the card stock that made her very blood run cold. 

The piece of 3 x 5 paper was covered in an unlabeled evidence bag. Leorio held the bag close to his face, examining the thin piece of paper. The corners were embroidered with an intricate formal pattern, the left corner splattered with a brownish red residue. A  handwritten note appeared in the middle of the paper, lovingly written in expensive gold leaf ink.

_ For Pakunoda and Korotopi _

_ With Love _

"Shoot found it lodged in Pokkle's throat."

Leorio grimaced. "Well isn't that just a thoughtful gift."

"Paladiknight, I need you to get in contact with Mizaistom as soon as possible. I need him to give his team a heads up on this case."

"Who do you think did this?"

He looked at the almost perfect square cuts of Pokkle's body. It was as if he was gathered into a laser type net that sliced his body into near identical pieces. Leorio tried to imagine the scene playing out, Pokkle's skin being ripped so effortlessly, the taut flesh cut up so perfectly, while the rest of his organs spilled out.

"Pokkle worked under Mizastom's command, so whoever killed him probably meant to target either him or the people he works with. I can't really pinpoint what type of nen the attacker used. For all I know, he could've accidentally slipped through a person sized meat cuber." 

Cheadle inhaled sharply, trying to collect herself. She's been on the edge of cracking for a while now, but she'd rather save that for the privacy of her own home, rather than lose her composure in front of a subordinate.

His tall frame towered over her as he felt the urge to find some way to confort her. He could feel how rare of a moment this was, to see Cheadle falter from her headstrong personality. Leorio placed a careful hand on Cheadle's shoulder; she flinched at the contact, only now realizing how tense she was. 

"We'll figure it out. I'll go to Mizastom and see if he's familiar with the names Korotopi and Pakunoda."

Leorio turned his heel to exit the room, only to feel Cheadle tug his sleeve.

"Where do you think you're going?" She tried to keep her voice leveled, but Leorio could see the panic rising in her eyes.

"I'm not going to lie, I've slept for a good 2 hours and I'm hungover as hell. It's 5 in the morning, and the coffee shop opens right about now. I need to fill my veins with espresso before I pass out."

"We have instant coffee right here."

Leorio placed a condescending hand on her shoulder. "With all due respect doctor, I'd rather kill myself before succumbing to that tasteless bean water."

With a huff Cheadle let go of his sleeve. "Then I'm coming with you."

"I'm getting coffee for myself. When I come back, I'll fill the report out, and take the pictures to bring to Mizaistom.  _ You _ are going to sleep."

Cheadle felt an angry blush rising to her cheeks, her tiredness suddenly replaced with indignation.

"Paladiknight!" Cheadle stood up to her tallest height, which was unfortunately still a foot shorter than her patronizing student. "Don’t forget your position here. I can pull you out of this program as fast as I accepted you in. Do  _ not _ give me orders," she warned. 

Leorio quickly backed away from Cheadle as he thought of the best way to pacify his overworked boss. 

"Ok, I'm sorry. Can I at least ask how long you've been awake?"

"No you may not."

"I'm guessing at least over 24 hours. Probably way more than that."

Leorio scratched his stubble, examining the tired bags underneath her gray eyes. He noted her stiff, yet sagging shoulders, and the gap that began to form from her neck and her collar. He knew she did triple the amount of work that he had to do, and with how little sleep he got, he wondered if she rested at all.

In truth, Cheadle had been awake for at least over 50 hours, and yes, it was starting to get to her.

"Look, you're completely right. You're my boss, and what I said was uncalled for. I'm still going to get coffee, and you can stay up if you'd like. But, I'm asking you not as a subordinate, but as a friend. Please get some rest."

Cheadle stood there and pondered on his advice. She waited until she could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps before beginning to move. She dragged herself into her office, climbing onto her couch, where she curled herself into a ball and slept for what felt like the first time in a while.

She decided that she would deal with everything after some rest. 

* * *

Melody was just about finished polishing her flute, when she was greeted by the fragrant scent of rose tea.

"Good morning Melody." Leorio grinned. "I missed you at last night's gathering." 

She smiled as she accepted the heated beverage. "Thank you Leorio."

"It's rare that I talk to Kurapika before I talk to you," he mused, as he rested his hip on her desk.

"So what brings you here?" 

"I was hoping I could speak to Mizaistom, it's a little urgent."

"He's not in today."

Leorio stared at Melody with a deadpan expression. "What the hell do you mean he isn't here today?" 

Leorio spent a solid three hours slaving away with reports, paperwork, and photos regarding Pokkle's murder. He felt the paper coffee cup dent underneath his hand, the pressure precariously close to spilling his drink. 

"It's Saturday," Melody answered.

Before Leorio could think, he crushed the cup in his hand, spilling the scorching liquid all over the floor. 

"Ah shit sorry."

Melody clicked her tongue as she handed him a roll of paper towels.

"If it's Saturday, what are you doing here?"

Melody paused for a moment, staring at Leorio who was comically crouched on the floor in attempt to clean up his mess.

"My house isn't soundproof, and the interrogation room is perfect for practicing my flute."

Leorio would've called bullshit if it wasn't for her face showing no signs of dishonesty. He sighed heavily as he sat to the chair next to her.

"Then maybe you can help me."

He pulled out the case file with the little evidence he scrounged together. He had no leads whatsoever, aside from the two names written on the paper.

"You know, investigating is Kurapika's job. He's literally paid to do this," Melody replied as she sifted through the evidence

"You out of everyone knows how much he needs a break."

"Yes, but losing sleep for someone else isn't smart either", she chastised. She pulled out the evidence bag with the note card, carefully reading the contents. Leorio watched Melody’s face turn pale. 

"We need to get Kurapika now."

"Wait why?" 

"They're after him. Kurapika was involved with the murder of Pakunoda and Korotopi in our last mission, down in Yorknew City."

"You're kidding me!" Leorio yelled as Melody shrunk back in her chair. "I've seen the guy twice in a week, and spent around 3 to 4 hours cumulatively with him in mostly awkward silence, and he forgets to mention this shit!" 

Melody brought her hands to hear ears, hoping to muffle Leorio’s booming voice. “I don’t see why you have you take your frustration out in my general vicinity.” 

“Sorry, forgot about the ear thing,” Leorio said apologetically.

“That’s fine, but we really have to get going. Kurapika will want to hear this.”

She hobbled out of her chair and placed her flute gently in it’s case, beckoning Leorio to follow along.

* * *

“The phantom troupe is after his dumb ass, and he decides to grab an apartment on the busiest street in the city.”

“It’s not like he uses it that much.”

“True that,” Leorio replied, as he rapped the door with his fist. “Hey Kurapika, you in there?!,” he yelled.

“There’s a doorbell for a reason!” A faint voice called from the other end of the door.

“I’m running on 4 shots of espresso, and little to no sleep!” Leorio shouted back, knowing full well how annoying he was being. He heard the door unlatch and open slowly. 

“You better have a damn good reason why you’re standing in front of my place, screaming your head off before noon,” Kurapika croaked out. 

Kurapika looked absolutely terrible. Leorio had seen Kurapika in pretty bad shape before. He’s seen his friend right after battle, bruised and bloodied, falling in and out of consciousness. Even then, nothing prepared him for how Kurapika would look after a really bad hangover. The shorter man could barely hold himself up. 

“It’s a matter that can’t wait,” Melody spoke. Kurapika nodded as he continued to put all his weight against a wall. 

“You okay there?” Leorio asked, his voice immediately dropping ten decibels. On instinct, he placed the back of his hand on Kurapika’s forehead, pushing his sweaty bangs to the side.

“I threw up three times this morning.” 

“You didn’t seem that bad last night.”

“I drank the same amount as you, except I’m probably 50 pounds lighter,” Kurapika muttered. 

“Yea that’ll do it,” Leorio laughed. “Let’s go inside and I’ll see what I can do to fix you up.” 

He offered his arm to Kurapika, which the blonde reluctantly took hold of. Leorio carefully guided his friend into the tiny kitchen, making sure to not make any sudden movements. He gingerly placed Kurapika onto the kitchen chair, watching over his friend.  

“Let’s see what we have here.” Leorio opened his suitcase, looking through different medications. He put two pills in front of Kurapika, and rummaged through the cabinets for a cup to fill water with. 

“One is for the headache, the other will help with the nausea,” he said. 

Kurapika managed a tepid smile as he downed the two pills at once.  

“This must be pretty important for you to drag Melody all the way here.” 

Leorio and Melody looked at each other, as Melody gave Leorio a short nod for him to continue. 

“Cheadle called me this morning. Knuckle and Shoot found Pokkle’s body. Here. This will probably explain it better.” He pulled out the messy case files as he carefully tried to gauge Kurapika’s reaction.  

Kurapika grabbed the autopsy report from him, looking at each piece of evidence carefully before speaking.

“How long ago?” He scanned the pictures of the mutilated body, reading the note over and over until they were jumbled up and meaningless. He glared at the evidence, trying to find something, anything that would give him some kind of lead.

“Cheadle assumed it was longer than a day, maybe two.”

He gazed at the picture of Pokkle’s decapitated head, focusing on the lifeless eyes. Suddenly, Kurapika felt a wave of nausea hit his body, as he put his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure if it the nausea came from the alcohol or the picture, but he was going to assume it was a strong mixture of both.

Leorio quickly got up from his seat to grab a nearby trashcan. He placed it between Kurapika’s legs, tending to his hungover friend. 

“It’s all my fault,” Kurapika muttered bitterly, as he clutched the edges of the trashcan.

“Hey—, wait don’t say that.” Leorio couldn’t continue on with his statement, knowing full well, that this was most likely Kurapika’s fault.

The trio sat there silently for a few moments. Kurapika took his time trying to gain his composure, taking small sips of water on Leorio’s command. Leorio’s hand stayed steady on the back of Kurapika’s neck, his eyes brimming with concern over his friend’s current physical and mental state. 

Melody stared at the action, raising a nonexistent eyebrow. 

“I know now is probably not the time, but we have to act quick. We don’t know much about this situation but we know two things. They know you work for the association, and they’re probably in or near Swaldani city. Bottom line, you’re not safe here Kurapika,” Melody said.

“You’re right. I’ll pack up, and head out by dawn.”

Leorio felt a familiar sinking sensation in his chest.  “Tonight? You can barely move.”

“It’s just a hangover Leorio, I’ll be fine.”

“When are you flying out?”

“I’m not leaving the city.”

Leorio and Melody stared at him in disbelief.  

“They’re looking for you Kurapika, didn’t you hear a word Melody just said?”

“She mentioned they were in Swaldani, I have them right where I want them.” Kurapika stood up, all signs of a hangover erased from his body. 

“And where exactly are you going to go?” Leorio’s voice rose as his anger grew. Yes, there was a very huge, distracting part of him that wanted Kurapika to stay, but there was an even bigger part of his conscious that didn’t want him to die.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell Cheadle thank you, and that I’ll be setting up a meeting with Mizastom when he gets back on Monday. I think I know who killed Pokkle. I might have someone who can give me a lead.”

“Just wait a minute—,” Leorio tried to interject.

“Melody, please set up a phone call with Shoot and Morel. I don’t think Knuckle will be available.”

“Kurapika!” 

“Also Leorio, tell Cheadle I’m taking on this case. I’ll give her all of the details by Tuesday at the latest.” 

“Jesus Christ Kurapika, can you calm down for one second!” Leorio slammed his fists on the table as Kurapika glared at him in return.

Kurapika strode over to him, his posture tall and proud. “If this bothers you. Leave.”   

Leorio took a step closer, closing the space in between them. “And if I don’t?” 

“Then I’ll make you,” Kurapika said calmly, though his body language was seething with hatred. He scowled at the tall man as he felt his fingers itch to punch Leorio in the face.

Leorio leaned forward, pressing his forehead in against his shorter friend. "Kurapika, I’m not going to let you kill yourself over some split second decision. I’m putting you on an airship, halfway across the country  _ tonight  _ and you can’t say shit about it.” Although his stance was confident and condescending, his voice was pleading, as if he asked a question rather than demand an action.  

“Move out of the way Leorio,” Kurapika gave a second warning, feeling his knuckles turn white as he tried to control himself. 

Leorio pushed forward, his face dangerously close to Kurapika’s. 

“Make me.”

Before Leorio could even think, his face was greeted with Kurapika's fist. His ears rung upon impact, the sound of him flying into the nearby wall resonated throughout the tiny apartment, only to be followed by the sound of a pathetic large thud.

Kurapika spent nearly a decade learning how to control his unreserved anger, he learned to be more polite, less susceptible, in hopes to become more inconspicuous to the wary eye.  He worked diligently trying to perfect the hunter language until he lost all traces of his traditional dialect, only to revert back to it due to Leorio's condescending actions. Kurapika was mortified by his attitude, letting himself get so affected by something so insignificant. He didn't know why or how Leorio managed to get under his skin, all he knew was that Leorio had the unfortunate talent of pushing the wrong buttons. 

"Shit, that hurt,” Leorio complained as he protectively clutched his jaw. 

"Leorio, I'm so sorry," Kurapika apologized as he considered what to do. A mild panic started to settle in, he didn't really know if Leorio would welcome him into his vicinity at the moment, and honestly, lashing out this bad over someone who he didn't view as an enemy was never something he did.

To his bewilderment, Leorio laughed.

"I guess I deserved that." He got up and dusted himself off, lightly touching the tender area of his face.

"No, what I just did was not okay."

"Well no, it wasn't. But I also pushed you rather than I should have, and now you punched me and everything is all good."

"I don’t think that’s how fights work."

Leorio shrugged. "Back in my country, that's how we solved fights. We'd get pissed at each other, fight it out, and go back to being okay. Let me tell you, it worked 90% of the time."

"Well.. Are you going to hit me?" Kurapika asked, standing his ground and stupidly embracing himself for impact that would ever come.

"I don't feel like it. Maybe I'll save my punch for later," Leorio pondered. "It's obviously way more fun to do it when you least expect it.

"That's justifiable."

"Christ, can't you take a joke, or are you this dense? I'm joking, I'm not going to punch you. Maybe. You do tend to piss me off, so I can't promise that I won't later on."

The air felt significantly lighter, and although Kurapika didn’t fully get a chance to calm down, a sense of relief seemed to wash over him.  

“This isn’t over though. Look, I’m not going to make you dig a hole and hide under there till this thing blows over, but you do need another place to stay. You might keep a low profile, but living in such an obvious area isn’t going to help you.”

“I’ll gather my stuff today and ask Mizaistom to pull some strings.”

Melody cleared her throat, breaking the two men out of their argument. Everything had felt so intense up to this point, that they foolishly forgot she was in the room. 

"You guys are freaking me out a little so I think I'm just going to head back,” she said, as she inched her way slowly to the exit.

"I'll go with you, I think Kurapika and I need a little break from each other."

Melody nodded in agreement. "Let us know where you're staying and please Kurapika, keep us updated.” 

"When you figure out where you’re staying, let me know."

"Don't interfere with my fight Leorio, I can't drag you into this."

"You still owe me.” 

Leorio almost forgot the scarf he kept tucked inside his briefcase. He unlatched the hinges, and returned the article of clothing to its proper owner.

“I completely forgot I gave you this last night,” Kurapika said, as he tried to recollect the memories of last night. 

“I don’t blame you, we were both a little out of it. But we are going to talk sometime this week. As promised.” 

“Can’t this wait until after?”

“This week,” he repeated. Leorio knew  Kurapika to be a lot of things, but he was not a man who went back on his words, regardless of sobriety levels. 

“Is it really that important to you? This isn't really the best time—,” Kurapika tried to reason. 

“It is.” Leorio interrupted. He smirked at the Kurta, although the uneasiness in his chest grew stronger. He knew Kurapika would come back a little different after every fight, and he feared the limited time he already had with his friend. 

Kurapika nodded stiffly, not wanting to prolong their conversation more than he already had.  “Fine. As promised.” 

Leorio and Melody made their way outside. The tall medical student gave a small wave of goodbye which Kurapika didn't bother returning. They’d see each other shortly. 

* * *

“You love him,” Melody stated nonchalantly,

Leorio stopped walking mid-step. “ _ What?” _

Melody gave him a quick and knowing side glance.

"Well that's quite an assumption."

"Yea but I'm right," Melody continued to walk in front of Leorio, not bothering to wait if he caught up or not.

He didn't speak for a while, knowing it was futile to try and argue with her. He struggled keeping up with melody, although one of his larger steps were two of hers, she was oddly fast for someone her height. 

His face grew hot. Her statement didn't send any solace for what he knew he felt. Her words were like a bandaid quickly being ripped off, cruelly and painfully pointing out unwanted emotions he tried to cover up.

"Are you about to give me some life lessons regarding the matter of the heart.?”

"I suspected a while ago. Although, with the way you two were acting, no one would need super sensitive hearing to feel what was going on there."

"So it's that bad huh?" 

“Bad enough for me to feel like I was ruining a very heated and intimate moment.”

Leorio rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a hollow laugh. "So what do I do now?"

Melody only continued moving forward. "That's not for me to decide."

Leorio shoved his hands in his pockets, all traces of his confident posture gone. Hearing that confession finally surface only made the feeling of apprehension grow. He felt the dull ache in his heart turn into something he knew he could no longer ignore. 

 

   


 

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, there’s no better cure for a hangover than remembering to avenge the slaughter of your entire clan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika could feel his irritation growing.
> 
> “I didn’t call to be psychoanalyzed.”
> 
> A pause.
> 
> _“Then why did you call?”_
> 
> “”I’m trying to figure that out myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm super _super_ late with this update with no valid excuse. I was on the other side of the planet having the time of my life, but now I'm back and desperately trying to figure out where this story is heading. Thank you for all who continue to read, you guys are seriously my main motivators in all of this.

Kurapika wasn’t prepared for the grief stricken wail that reverberated in Mizaistom’s office. He was at a loss of words as he watched Ponzu’s body collapse onto the oak desk, her shoulders shook with every sob let out.

He met her once, maybe twice, and knew very little of her. He remembered her being shorter than Pokkle, the girl with the giant hat and sensible tone. She mentioned she wanted to join the association and work full time alongside with Pokkle once she was able to get her license. He overheard her come in the office from time to time, since she worked with Pokkle for his non-association contract work.

Her cries played in his ear as a constant loop, knowing full well the sound of a heartbreak. Just by the way she grieved, he understood that Pokkle was much more to her than her comrade. 

Calling existing family members was easy for Kurapika, because most hunters didn’t seem to have any listed contact under their name. Furthermore, even if they did, Kurapika was only the messenger. He had terrible bedside manner, often sounding like a perfect record player, relaying the message to whoever was willing to hear. Compassion was Leorio’s trade, not his. He would hide behind his phone, often taking the receiver out of his ear when a phone call became violent, or boring, or not worth his time. 

First and foremost, this wasn’t through the phone. He couldn’t simply put the voice on the other line on hold. Second, this death was someone who he had worked with and interacted at least once in his life, and a previous interaction with the now deceased always made him feel uneasy. Most importantly, she was right in front of him, and unavoidable. He often lacked the most basic sympathy from people who he had no relationships with, solely because all of his energy grieving went only to his clan. 

“Ponzu, I understand if you need more time. I can leave the room for a little if you’d like,” Kurapika offered gently. 

She shook her head and sniffled. Ponzu quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve and took deep and controlled breaths. “It’s...I’m fine.”

Kurapika nodded and pulled out Pokkle’s case file. “It says here he was last seen with you a month ago.”

“Yeah, we had contract work near the coast of Sofurabi. I was excited since that place was a restricted area and we didn't get many chances to get off the map”

“And what were you doing there with him?”

“I specialize in entomology, so I was there mainly to gather information on the insects around that area. Pokkle was doing the same, but with animals. Word got around that some nen beasts roamed around that particular region.  He was really excited about that..,” her voice trailed off as tears welled up in her eyes, but her face remained strong and determined to help with the investigation. 

“When did he go missing?” 

“That I don’t know exactly. He completed his contract early, and I was given the option to extend mine, which I accepted. I told him to send me a message when he got back to Swaldani city, but he never showed up.”

“And that was the last you heard of him?” 

She picked up the giant hat laying next to her, and tapped the side of it lightly. To Kurapika’s amazement (and horror) her hat started buzzing. One bee managed to apparate out of the side of her hat, flying in small patterns

“I sent some of these little guys to track him. I can communicate with them through their flight pattern”

He watched the bee fly back and forth in front of Ponzu, while two bees followed him in a consistent zig zag.

“Two people were chasing him, then these guys just started going crazy, so I assumed the worst.” 

Silent, fat tears rolled off of her face and onto her lap. More than ten bees flew around Ponzu, buzzing in concern. 

“Did you know if anyone had a vendetta against Pokkle?”

“Not that I know of. There may be some people in his hometown, but I doubt any of them would be able to stand against him.”

“Any other leads?”  A hopeless feeling settled into the pit of Kurapika’s stomach. He didn’t want to push Ponzu any further, but the investigation was going nowhere. 

“Not that I know of. But…” Pozu trailed off, as she tapped onto her hat twice, releasing more bees that Kurapika thought necessary. “When I ask about Pokkle, they keep linking together in this weird pattern.”

“Does it look similar to any of the other patterns you’ve seen before?”

Ponzu frowned as she concentrated on her bugs. “Well, no… but sometimes they pick up on a word they know and try to emulate it. Or kind of, form themselves into the shape.” She moved her fingers in a large O pattern as the bees moved themselves to form a giant circle. 

“So what shape do they make when you mention Pokkle?” Kurapika asked in fascination. 

She concentrated and drew an arrow in the air. The bees managed to line themselves up in perfect sync, creating a notable pattern. Four bees grouped themselves together while one bee lay in between them, creating a long line structure. 

“They look like they’re linking to each other, or that’s what I think.”

Kurapika pursed his lips together as he stared at the pattern. “Like chains maybe.”

“Yeah! They kind of look like it now that you mention it.” Ponzu’s face held a look of concentration and she tried signaling to the bees. 

The yellow jacketed insects buzzed louder in unison, their sounds almost deafening. Ponzu took a step back and put her hand to her mouth, nodding in agreement. 

“You’re right, they seem to react to that. But how would you know?,” she asked as she stared at Kurapika. Her insects turned to face him as well. 

“Lucky guess,” he shrugged. 

Ponzu’s eyes narrowed, but she reluctantly tapped her hat three times. Thee bees retreated back into their home, leaving no trace behind Without the sound of buzzing, the room felt oddly quiet and Kurapika suddenly felt quite vulnerable. 

“Is there something you know that I don’t?” 

“Unfortunately nothing solid, I don’t have any clues right now, but I promise we’ll try to find who did this to him. You have my word on that.”

Keeping himself under the radar was part hard work and part dumb luck. He made it a habit to frequently check the hunter web for signs of change on his profile. The last thing listed was the year he passed the hunter exam, as well as his height, weight, eye and hair color. By incredibly good fortune, his nen type wasn’t listen, and his previous attachments to the Nostrade’s were also nowhere to be found. The hunter association protected his image quite well, as they wouldn’t want someone in his position to easily be tracked, but it was still baffling how little information everyone had on him. Still, he made the decision to forgo wearing chains out in public to keep on the down low, only opting to show them in physical combat.

Ponzu crossed her arms and let out a loud huff. “You’re a terrible liar Kurapika, I hope you know that, but I trust you with this. Pokkle was my dearest friend. He might have not meant much to you, but he was a very big part of my life. I know I’m not strong enough to be alongside the rest of the pro-hunters, that’s why I’m depending on you.” Ponzu let out a shaky breath and let her arms fall to her side. 

Kurapika nodded, not knowing what to contribute to the conversation. It wasn’t his place to speak at the moment, only to listen. 

Ponzu gently picked up her hat and placed it on top of her head, as she curiously eyed the neglected case file on Kurapika’s desk. She leaned forward to inspect it, before shaking her head.

“I know I’m not ready for that yet. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to see those photos. I honestly don’t even want to know how he died.”

Kurapika wordlessly picked up the file and placed it in one of Mizaistom’s desks for safekeeping. 

“It will always be here if you want it. But for now, I agree with you. Some things are best not viewed.”

* * *

 

Kurapika’s night was restless. He seriously considered making a night run to the convenience store for some sleeping pills. The only thing stopping him was that his dreams seemed to be far worse than his lack of sleep. 

Images of a dead Pairo flashed in his mind. Dried blood splattered on the side of his face, tarnishing his pale cheeks. His short brown hair stuck to his temples with the mixture of sweat and gore while his body was propped gently on the nightstand, eyes gouged out in a violent manner.The whole macabre scene made Kurapika nauseous as he saw the blood slowly drip down from Pairo’s empty sockets, spilling into his open mouth. 

Kurapika backed away, only to stumble on the remains of Pokkle’s body. He was cut up just as Kurapika remembered in the picture, the only thing that differed was the soft sobs coming from the corner, as he turned around to see a crying Ponzu, cradling what was left of Pokkle’s face. She stared at him angrily, tears streaming freely onto the top of Pokkle’s decapitated head. 

Kurapika woke up in a cold sweat. He felt the sweat stick onto his back and around his neck as he stared at the glowing Jupiter plant that lay in front of him. These nightmares were normal for him, and overtime, he learned to deal. Back when the murder was fresh, he’d scream loud enough to wake a whole village. Eventually, his panic became internal, learning not to move or make noise when he woke up from something like this. These dreams happened so frequently that it was almost a pleasant change when he’d have more than a week of dreamless sleep. 

He stood up, feeling dizzy and out of breath. He felt the cool tile hit his bare feet as he felt around for the light switch. Knowing he wasn’t safe in his own house made him feel even more unsettled. Kurapika took a drink of water and paced back and forth around his tiny apartment. He felt troubled and agitated, unable to shake the sound of Ponzu’s voice from his memory. There was so much guilt that consumed him already, he knew he had no room to feel guilty over something that was indirectly his fault. 

It was two thirty in the morning, and Kurapika was bored and unnerved. Usually, nights like these would consist of him staring at the ceiling until tiredness eventually won. Tonight seemed different. 

He brought the phone to his face, thinking before shooting a text. 

_ “Hey.” _

It took less than two minutes before Leorio replied.

_ Go to sleep. You have work tomorrow.  _

He looked at the previous messages he sent Leorio. Besides the text he sent a few minutes ago, for the past year the rest of them have been from Leorio. A lot of them were just asking how he was doing. There were rare drunk texts and a couple of saved voicemails, with Leorio angrily telling him to answer. There were a few frantic pleading texts regarding Killua and Gon. 

Kurapika wondered why he bothered keeping any of these, but anytime he tried to delete it, he always seemed to fail. There was always an excuse of being too lazy, that the messages were too unimportant to delete. He looked at these messages far too often to lie to himself and he knew that his phone was sometimes the thing that kept him grounded when he didn’t have anything else. 

_ “I can’t sleep.” _

A couple of seconds after he sent that message, his phone pinged almost instantly. He clicked answer as the sound Leorio’s voice flooded his ears. 

_ “If you want to talk, we’ll talk here. It’s faster than having you reply every ten minutes. “ _

“You’re exaggerating.”

_ “Whatever. Why are you up this late?”  _

“I can ask the same thing.”

_ “I’m a med student. I run on coffee, not sleep.” _

Kurapika could feel his lips curl up into a smile. 

“I couldn’t sleep.”

_ “Lucky you.”  _ Kurapika heard a yawn at the end of the other line.  _ “If you wanna switch places with me, let me know.” _

“Tell me if I’m bothering you.”

_ “You called me at two in the morning. You’d be bothering anyone at this hour.” _

Kurapika heard the loud whirring sound of an espresso machine in the background. He pictured a tired Leorio hunched over a stack of medical textbooks, unshaven, and shaky from all the espresso shots. A huge part of him wished he was there, silently reading a book next to his friend. He knew even if he wanted to, his feet wouldn’t allow him to move. Kurapika wasn’t like Gon, he couldn’t interfere without being invited. Even then, he usually declined every invitation, falling further into this hole of isolation. 

“I guess my sleep schedule is just off.”

_ “Nightmares I’m guessing.”  _

Kurapika stayed silent, mildly brooding at Leorio’s accuracy.

_ “They’re common symptoms with someone who deals with PTSD. Before you start arguing with me, I’m pretty sure you knew you had it yourself. You’re the walking definition of it.” _

Kurapika could feel his irritation growing.

“I didn’t call to be psychoanalyzed.” 

A pause. 

_ “Then why did you call?”  _

_ “ _ ”I’m trying to figure that out myself.” 

_ “Look, I’m by no means a therapist or a even a full fledged doctor, so I can’t prescribe you the good stuff. But sometimes I can be a pretty good ear, if that’s what you want." _

“I’m not sure.”

_ “Look. Kurapika, I’m not going to pull it out of ya if you don’t want me to. I know you’re not exactly the shining example when it comes to using healthy coping mechanisms. Just... Ok let’s start here. What was the nightmare about?” _

“Pairo. He was a childhood friend.”

_ “Ah yea. That happens. I think I’ve mentioned Pietro to you a couple of times. Sometimes I have dreams about him too, pretty horrific ones. I don’t think they’re as bad or as frequent as yours, but they happen.” _

“What do you do about it?” Kurapika asked, intrigued. 

_ “I know the kind of person Pietro was, he’d be upset if he knew he was bothering me in any way. What kind of person was Pairo?”  _

Kurapika tried to remember how Pairo was. He remembered the light brown hair, his kind weak eyes, the way he waved before Kuraka left. Energetic and excited, like it was the last time he’d ever see his best friend again. 

“He was patient, soft-spoken, and kind. He often got me out of a lot of trouble.”

_ “Heh, sounds like the complete opposite of you. How would he act if he saw you like this?”  _

“He’d probably get really worried, and he’d try to fix it. Or he’d say something that would help. He always knew what to do when it came to dealing with me.”

_ “Well he finally has a break from that. And he’d want to see you succeed.”  _

“I guess you’re right.”

_ “He would probably also want to see you get some sleep. I swear, if you don’t knock out soon I’ll knock you out myself,” Leorio laughed.  _

For a moment, Kurapika considered this. He heard Leorio’s laugh fade out, the only sound being the rummaging of items on Leorio’s end. 

_ “Kurapika? You there? I’m seriously going to head over if you don't answer in the next five seconds.  _

“I’m here. Just thinking.”

_ “Well stop. Think tomorrow and rest for now.” _

“I’ll be fine. By the way, how’s your face?” 

_ “Hurts like a bitch.” _

Kurapika let out a soft chuckle. He heard Leorio laugh along with him, and the feeling of comfort and warmth settled in his chest. 

“I should sleep.”

_ “Yea, but I’ll see you soon. I’m not going to let you get rid of me that easily.” _

“Goodnight Leorio.”

There was a slight pause on the phone line. For a moment, Kurapika thought Leorio had hung up.

_ “Before you go, I really missed you.”  _ Another pause. Leorio cleared his throat before he continued.  _ “Well you and Gon and Killua and everyone else. “ _

“Yea, me too.” Kurapika’s voice felt thick and heavy with the weight of unsaid words. 

_ “Well, goodnight Kurapika.” _

Kurapika heard a click on the other line as the phone went silent. He was suddenly aware of how alone he felt, and he briefly wondered how long Leorio would stay up, and if he’d have time to catch him while he was still awake. 

While his heart urged him to move, his body stayed chained to his bed. Although loneliness settled into his consciousness, the feeling of anticipation also appeared. Kurapika felt his eyelids grow heavy with sleep. For the next five hours or so, he was able to rest uninterrupted.

* * *

 

Mizaistom’s hands stayed steady, as he gripped coffee cup with his left hand and held a pen in his right. Usually, he’d follow a strict routine of balancing a healthy diet, with enough bed rest. However, the upcoming months had been a challenge . If it weren’t for the giant black mark on his left eye and his horned hat covering most of his head, his eyes would have shown heavy signs of fatigue. With around five hunters that have gone missing in this year alone, and one recently deceased, he had no choice but to work harder on these cases. 

His eyes were strained from the constant reading, as he noticed he stayed on the same page of the case file for the last ten minutes or so. Mizaistom heard the door click open, and he looked up to see his subordinate standing in front of him. 

Kurapika didn’t seem to look any better. He noticed the blonde clutching his cheap cup of coffee, his usually immaculate suit wrinkled with signs of neglect.

“Any news on Pokkle’s case?” 

“Some, but not as much as I’d like. I spoke with Leorio and Melody, and thankfully they were able to give me some information on Pokkle’s murder. You can find the casefile in your top right drawer.” 

Mizaistom pulled the file out, frowning at the graphic pictures. 

“From the card they left, it’s a very solid assumption this was done by the Phantom Troupe. From the way Pokkle died, you can rule out the idea of an imposter. One of the members is a transmuter, specializing in nen strings. Considering the perfect lines on the cuts of his body, my theory is she created some type of net, or trap that managed to slice him in that particular way.”

“Yes, but why Pokkle? He has nothing to do with the phantom troupe.”

“Ponzu and I figured out a clue to his death. Her nen bees reacted strongly to the word chains, so I’m guessing it probably has something to do with me. Not to mention they listed Korotopi and Pakunoda in their note. She also thinks that there may have been two people present at the time of the murder. ”

Mizaistom’s stare bore holes into Kurapika’s composure. Although the chain user was known to have amazing resolve, he knew Kurapika had too much of a guilty conscious to break his stoic facade. 

“Three hunters have died at the hands of the phantom troupe as soon as you took over this case.”

“With three of the members dead,” Kurapika responded. 

“That’s not the case, this isn’t a bartering system Kurapika. Like you’ve mentioned yourself, the spider’s rebuild. I need you to figure out if this is really something worth pursuing.”

There was no anger in Mizaistom, both he and Kurapika knew how dangerous this line of work was. The troupe became enough of a problem beforehand, but their violence seemed to multiply tenfold with Kurapika on their tail. 

“Regardless of whether you put me on this case or not, I’m going to do it anyway.”

“I figured you would say that.” 

Being appointed commander of their unorganized crime division didn’t really give him much leverage. His subordinates followed his instructions out of respect and title, but hunter’s had a habit of not always following directions to the T. He knew taking Kurapika off this case wouldn’t do much except probably bring one of his best employees to quit. 

He found great potential in Kurapika. The blonde’s deductive abilities and ambition were enough to make him a viable candidate to take his place in the future, but Kurapika lacked thought in times where it was most necessary. His bad calls and impulsive nature made him more of a handicap when he found something that triggered his emotions enough. Nonetheless, Mizaistom knew that Kurapika was undeniably an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. 

“Since I can’t budge you out of your decision, let’s go over the facts we do know. Three of the phantom troupe members are currently dead. The phantom troupe most likely knows you work for the association, therefore killing someone loosely associated to you. Most importantly, they know parts of your nen ability.”

“Yes, but now we’re faced with the question of who tipped them off?”

“That’s unimportant. They’re somewhere in Swaldani, and they’re coming after you. I’m sending a couple of people to join you on this case.”

Kurapika shot up from his seat. “With all due respect, I don’t need other people helping me out.”

There was a variety of reasons why Kurapika didn’t want to work with a team, the main being how he wanted this kill to himself. He also knew it was smarter to work alone, and it would be a lot less dangerous if only he was involved. He already had someone he barely knew become involved in this case, and he didn’t want that death count to rise. 

“This isn’t something I’m budging on. They’re in my city attacking my team. It’s not a smart decision to go into this alone Kurapika. Not all of your fights will always be one on one, and from the information you gave me, Pokkle was attacked by multiple members. This isn’t a single vendetta, this is a team effort. Even with the two people I’m giving you, it’s still not enough to kill nine members, but I can’t afford to focus my entire team on this one mission.”

Kurapika sat back down, crossing his arms at his dissatisfaction. He knew Mizaistom was right, but he still thought it was irresponsible for his commander to throw two unfortunate people into something dangerous and stupid. 

“You’ll find out who you’re working with tomorrow, for now, unless you need anything else, you’re free to go.”

“There is one thing. My apartment has been compromised, so I need a place to stay. I was hoping for something more inconspicuous than an apartment six blocks away from the association.”

Mizaistom thought for a moment, a slow grin spreading on his face. 

“Consider it done.”

* * *

 

The smell of tobacco and cloves filled the air as Leorio tapped his foot impatiently on the pavement. Cheadle didn’t particularly like the smell of nicotine in her vicinity, so Leorio often spent many lonely smoke breaks outside of the hospital, pacing back and forth until the smell no longer stuck to his clothes. He wasn’t by any means a chain smoker, but it was enough of a habit for him to be familiar with the outside smoking area. He tended to lean towards cigarettes during times of boredom or stress, and he found himself going through a worrying amount in the past few months. Leorio took a one last drag, discarding the butt, before impulsively reaching for another one. 

“Can I have one?” Killua asked out of the blue.

Leorio let out a long yelp followed by a string of curses. “Jesus Killua, why can’t you ever say hello like a normal person?!” 

“If I couldn’t sneak up on you out of all people, I wouldn’t be a very good assassin.”

“I thought you left that life of crime. Reformed, became a good man and all that crap,” Leorio said, as he lit another cigarette. 

“”Yea, and I thought you were a doctor.” Killua said, as he snatched the cigarette from underneath Leorio’s nose. 

“Are you even old enough to smoke?” 

“I’m nineteen, old man.” 

He put the cigarette to his lips, inhaling fast. Killua always had a natural and cool languidness to him. He leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable. His left hand was shoved deep in the pockets of his periwinkle windbreaker as he held the cigarette close to his lips. 

For a moment, Leorio was slightly jealous of how effortless it was for Killua to look so cool. He quickly took back that thought as Killua doubled over as he was overcome by a fit of coughs.

“You actually enjoy this shit?,” he said through raspy breaths.

Leorio shook his head, laughing Killua. “I told you not to smoke it.”

Killua’s face scrunched up in disgust. He let the cigarette fall to his feet, snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe. 

“I wasn’t done with that you know.“

“I’m doing you a favor, promise.”

Leorio leaned against the wall along with Killua, pulling his coat tighter along his tall frame. If anyone else smacked his cigarette out of his hand, it probably would have led to something violent. He felt such a strong kinship with his three friends, that he never had the heart to get mad at them for very long.

“Maybe you’ll get used to the taste when you get older kiddo,” Leorio chuckled.

“If it makes me look anything like you, I’ll pass,” Killua snorted. “Speaking of your face, what the hell happened to it? You look like you’ve been mauled by a bear.” 

“Sort of, except much shorter, far less hairy, and a little more blonde. Oh, and much  _ much  _ angrier than any bear I’ll ever encounter.”

Leorio’s bruise turned from angry pink to a deep dark purple, and although it was healing nicely, his face was still slightly swollen and tender to the touch. He winced as Killua poked the tender area of his jaw. 

“Hey cut that out,” Leorio said as he angrily swatted at Killua’s hand. 

Killua retracted himself and snickered. “Kurapika got you good. Didn’t expect him to be that kinda person in bed, but I guess I can see him being into that.”

Leorio could feel the quick heat rise to his entire face as he resisted the urge to punch Killua into another dimension. 

“If this is what Kurapika finds pleasurable, I think I’ll pass.”

“And if it wasn’t what he was into?” Killua said, egging Leorio on. 

“I guess I’d give it a shot,” Leorio confessed. He was passed being embarrassed about his attraction to Kurapika. Leorio felt more scared about the situation more than anything. 

He expected Killua to give him some serious shit, but to his bewilderment, he was met with a disappointed pout. 

“Well now you just took the fun out of messing with you.” Killua was silent for a moment, side-eyeing Leorio with a pitying glance. “I mean I can understand why it’s him, but  _ damn.  _ Couldn’t you find someone easier to be with. That guy is on a constant suicide mission.”

“Believe me, if I could change it I would. But I might as well admit I’m screwed instead of beating around the bush.”

Killua fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves, his large eyes glued to the ground in front of him. “I guess I get what you mean.” 

“Hm?” Leorio glanced briefly at his shorter friend. Both of Killua’s arms were buried deep into his pocket as he avoided Leorio’s gaze.

“Gon is the same way. He can be really stubborn.  Sometimes I feel like no one can really get through him.”

“Is this an indirect confession?” Leorio asked curiously. He tried respecting Killua’s personal comfort level, but at the same time, the more information he got out of Killua, the less he felt alone in all of this. 

“I don’t think it really matters. I’m not looking for anything particular relationship wise. All I want to do is be with Gon, and I’ve pretty much been through hell and back because of it.”

They stood there in complete silence for a moment. Although no words were spoken between them, a familiar feeling was set in place of words, much louder than voices could ever provide. 

“Not to sound all sentimental, but you have my word on keeping this a secret,” Leorio said. 

Killua shrugged, as he continued to fidget with the fabric of his jacket, pretending to pick out the loose strands that didn’t exist. Leorio could be loud and obnoxious, but he knew Leorio would die before betraying someone’s trust. 

“It’s not a secret or anything. Plus, I mentioned this as a warning, not a confession. Take it from a veteran. You can’t save people like Gon and Kurapika simply because they don’t need saving. Gon goes head first into really stupid things, and he does it without an ounce of regret. You can’t talk him out of it, you can’t pull him back, and you can’t stop what inevitably will kill him someday. You can only watch and hope he doesn’t do something stupid, and if you’re like me, you’ll never ever get used to it.”

Killua managed to sink into his giant windbreaker, his face slowing inching further and further into the high neck part of his jacket. His eyebrows furrowed in agitation as he divulged his innermost thoughts to Leorio. Professing his anxieties should have made him feel a little better, but they only furthered his worry about the impending future. 

“I can only follow him for so long, but maybe one day something will happen where I can’t.” 

Killua was both terrified and amazed by how effortless it was for Gon to throw his life away. Kurapika had a very clear purpose to his actions while Gon didn’t. Gon was spontaneous and stupid with a grey moral compass that even Killua couldn’t follow. He made Killua feel alive in more ways than one. It was with Gon he felt such strong feelings of fear, and loss, and pure unrefined happiness. It made him disheartened to know that he was able to lose that at any given minute.

“Do you regret it? Staying by his side?” Leorio asked. 

Killua quickly turned his head to the emitter. “Of course I don’t! If I did, I wouldn’t have hauled my ass all the way here.”

“Wait, Killua why the hell  _ are  _ you here.”

“Gon’s dumbass passed out while training with Bisky. She sent me over here since we exhausted all our medical supplies, probably also due to Gon. Sad thing is, this happens pretty often.”

“Damn, the kid really puts himself out there doesn’t he? “

“Yea, he’s a mess.”

Leorio grinned at the Zoldyck, feeling a hundred times better than he originally did did. He instinctively ruffled Killua’s fluffy white hair, much to Killua’s disapproval. 

“Knowing you’re just as fucked as I am, makes this whole realization thing feel a lot less lonely.”

“Really? Cause I just feel lousy.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out kid,” Leorio said reassuringly. 

“You’re overconfident for someone who hasn’t even stepped into the deep end.”

“Like you said, that’s kind of the way you have to do things with people like Kurapika and Gon. You have to work like them, go in head first without thinking twice.”

“Yea, but when the time comes, will you be able to make that decision? Cause even with someone like me I still find it hard.” Killua fidgeted with the zipper on his purple windbreaker, wondering if Leorio felt the same fear as he did. Killua was too far into this friendship to back out, and even if he had the choice, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave the only thing he’s ever valued. 

Leorio breathed out a lungful of cold air, his breath nearly opaque in the cool weather. He let his head lean back against the gray cement wall, as he thought over Killua’s words. 

“I honestly don’t know. I still need to figure things out, sort my emotions and all that junk. Something tells me I have to do it soon.”

“You can do it today, if you wanna.” 

“Huh?” 

“Let’s go inside so I can restock, we’ll talk from there.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pokkle died without letting Ponzu out of the friend zone
> 
> _"Ma'am, to our understanding his last words were 'I love you as a friend..."_
> 
>  
> 
> ** All shitposting aside, I know everything is going at a slow pace but I suck at writing romance. It will trickle in shortly. Or I can say screw it and just pull a 180 on everything. Haven't decided yet. Stay tuned.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But Kurapika, it’ll be like old times again,” Gon said in between bites.
> 
> “The last time I almost got you killed.”
> 
> “Yea but did we die?” Gon argued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a huge thing for Brokalgo. He’s legit one of my favorite characters. Anyways, I've been super neglecting this bad boy for a while, so I thought I'd stop being a terrible parent and give it some love.

“You might want to watch your feet. She can get rocky from time to time, specially during the winter months.”

“Isn’t it spring?,” Kurapika asked. He pulled his blue suitcase onto the wide metal bridge, tailing right behind the three foot octopus. 

“But the sea is a complicated one, that she is. You never know when she decides to get angry.”

“Mizaistom mentioned this ship stayed dockside at all times,” Kurapika said, much to Ikalgo’s dismay. 

“Well yes it does, but sometimes the boat could get rocky, and once Meleoreon tripped before entering, so please just be careful,” Ikalgo responded, irritated at the fact that he couldn’t fit in more sea references. He wrapped a tentacle around the doorknob, opening it wide for his new guest. 

“Thanks again for letting me stay here Ikalgo.”

Kurapika would have never thought of it, but Ikalgo’s boat was a perfect place to stay. It was close enough to the association building for Kurapika to work, and it was nondescript in its location. Dozens of commercial fishing and housing boats lined this particular pier, creating a floating makeshift neighborhood on top of water. 

“Thank the hunter association, they were the one’s kind enough to gift me this ship. It’s near the fish market so that makes it easier to gather stuff for my restaurant. The S.S. Komugi is a little outdated, and she’s in need of a new paint job, but for the past two years she’s made a good home,” he smiled, as he stroked the interior of the vessel.

The brownish green carpeting was quite old, and the smell of mold seeped into parts of the wall. However, this boat did have a homey charm to it.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.”

Ikalgo wriggled down the hallway and up the stairs to the upper deck of the ship. Kurapika’s eyes wandered to the pictures nailed up on the sea green wall. Many seemed to be generic boardwalk scenes, and old sea paintings, but a few were peppered with Ikalgo’s personal pictures. There was one that particularly caught his eye. Near the end of the stairwell was a brightly lit photo of Gon and Killua, with Ikalgo in the middle. He wore a chef’s bandana and held a wooden spoon on one of his right tentacles. A huge blue banner that read “GRAND OPENING” hung in the background. Ikalgo sprung a huge smile, his eyes glistening, while Killua’s arm was wrapped tightly around the octopus. 

“Ah, that was one of my most favorite memories,” Ikalgo smiled as he gently touched the frame of the picture. “I owe these boys a lot, especially Killua. I met him while we were on opposing sides of the chimera ant war, but that story is for another time,” he grinned, recalling the memory fondly. 

“I agree, I don’t know if I’d be standing here if it wasn’t for them.”

“Friends like them are difficult to find. Make sure to treat them well,” Ikalgo said. He pushed open the second door to the right , and motioned for Kurapika to step inside. “This will be your room until further notice. It’s simple and there’s not much to it, but it makes a good place to rest. Dinner will be ready around seven, so just make yourself at home for now.”

“There’s really no need for that, I can feed myself,” Kurapika replied. 

“Nonsense! It’s not often I do this. Plus, tonight we have visitors.”

“Visitors?”

“Gon and Killua are coming over, so I hope you have an appetite because I know Gon does,” Ikalgo bellowed. He had an unusually loud and deep voice for someone so short.

Ikalgo closed the door behind him, leaving Kurapika alone in his foreign new room. It was a little more cramped than his apartment, but the view made up for it. Sunlight spilled into the white wall reflecting hues of vibrant pinks and oranges; the sound of seagulls were heard nearby accompanied with the soft waves crashing against the rocks. New blankets were placed on his bed, mismatched and warm. 

He hadn’t seen the ocean until he turned thirteen. He remembered the first time his bare feet hit the warm sand, and the way the cold sea foam tickled his ankles. The bitter feeling of regret never left his chest as he stared at the vast ocean, more beautiful than the illustrations he remembered from the adventures of Hunter D. Kurapika recalled the feeling of excitement he felt along with Pairo in hopes they would one day explore the world together. Now, the ocean only held feelings of grief and unattainable promises, as he knew he’d never be able to share this with anyone back home. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, feeling a little emptier than before, but the soft patterns of light filtering through his window seemed to keep him calm. He felt the soft rocking of the boat, as the waves eventually lulled him to sleep.

* * *

 

Kurapika’s eyes fluttered open. His breath hitched for a brief moment, feeling hyper aware of his unfamiliar surroundings until he remembered where he was. Night fell throughout the city. A cascading blanket of dark blue filled his small room, only to be illuminated by the soft white glow of the moon. He searched around for another light switch, stumbling over furniture and quickly made a mental note to familiarize himself with his area the next chance he had. 

Footsteps were heard on the bottom deck, the faint sounds of Gon’s voice echoed downstairs. He stretched both of his arms and groggily made his way through the corridor and down the stairs. 

“Hey, you’re awake!” Gon called out from the last step of the stairwell. 

“Hey Gon, what time is it?” 

“Almost 7:30. Dinner should be ready soon! Leorio and Killua should be done setting up the tables, they actually kicked me outside to come fetch you,” he laughed. He pulled Kurapika’s sleeve leading him to a small antechamber.

“Did you guys know I was going to be here?”

“Ikalgo told us.”

“Do you visit him often?” 

“Sometimes, when we have time,” Gon smiled. His short and vague responses put Kurapika on alert, but Gon managed to shove him into the dining room before he had the chance to ask anymore questions. 

“Finally, he’s awake,” Killua waved, setting down down the last piece of silverware. 

“It’s weird to see you well rested,” Leorio commented, looking much worse for the wear. The teashades did little to hide the tiredness on his face, and bruise underneath his chin made him look more haggard than usual.

“How did you know where I was?” he asked Leorio, trying his hardest not to sound rude. 

“I ran into him at the hospital and invited him to come with us.”

“Yes, but I talked about my arrangements with Mizaistrom just yesterday, so how did you find out about my whereabouts when they’re supposed to be a secret.”

“Lucky guess,” Gon shrugged.

“Gon,” Kurapika warned. “You and I know there’s something not adding up here.” 

Although Gon was taller than Kurapika, but he seemed to shrink back at the blonde’s authoritative tone.  

“I.. Uh,” he glanced at Killua for help. 

Killua rolled his eyes at Gon and pulled out a chair, motioning for Kurapika to take a seat. 

“Think of it as a welcome dinner, since we’ll be working on your next case together.”

* * *

 

Food lined the table while the rest of the crew dug in. Gon and Killua scoured dinner at an alarming rate as Leorio and Ikalgo watched in horror. 

Kurapika was having none of it. He stubbornly crossed his arms, refusing to join in. 

“For the last time Gon, this is not going to work out. I’ll talk to Mizaistom about this matter tomorrow.” 

More than often, Gon was the most stubborn out of the four. They all had pretty strong personalities as individuals, but Gon always seemed to be the most unbudgeable one. Still, even Gon knew when to step down, especially when it came to the instructions of his close friends. 

“But Kurapika, it’ll be like old times again,” Gon said in between bites.

“The last time I almost got you killed.”

“Yea but did we die?” Gon argued.

“That’s not the point,” Kurapika sighed. “I will not put put you both in danger for the sake of my revenge.” 

“Yea, well that’s too late for that,” Killua added in. “It was Mizaistom’s choice to recruit us, but we also offered to step in.”

“You’re throwing yourself into a reckless mission that has no attachment to any of you, you do know this right?” he stared directly at Killua, knowing him to be the more reasonable out of the two. 

“Yea, we know, but that doesn’t change much. We’re still going to work on this case with you,” Killua said nonchalantly. He rested his feet on the dinner table, much to Ikalgo’s disgust. 

“Did your mother teach you any manners?!” Ikalgo yelled. He wrapped his tentacle around Killua’s ankle, swinging it off the table. 

“I make it a habit to do the opposite of everything she’s taught me,” he snickered. 

“Will you please take this more seriously!” Kurapika said louder this time. “This is not something I’m okay with. The first time we fought together, we got off lucky, I had Chrollo a bargaining chip. Right now he’s out there, fully capable of using nen we aren’t familiar with in the slightest.”

“You can’t go into every fight knowing what your opponent is capable of, that’s an unreasonable way to think,” Gon argued. 

Killua and Ikalgo both nodded, knowing full well what to expect from a war. 

“Kurapika our fighting styles are really similar. As an assassin, I prefer to know my target’s hand, but these guys are top notch, and something tells me you can’t sneak up to them from very far,” Killua said, sympathizing with the chain user. “There’s three of us and a lot more of them, even if you knew their nen, getting blindsided is almost certain.”

Kurapika felt his jaw tighten, suddenly faced with facts that were all too real. He knew Gon and Killua were right, that Mizaistom had good intentions on commanding backup, but he didn’t like to be faced with truth unless it was on his terms. To him, this all felt like some forced intervention that he had no say in. 

“The kid has a point,” Leorio added, although he knew he couldn’t say much when it came to combat. 

“I don’t want to be crude Leorio, but what exactly is your place in this?” Kurapika glared. 

“None. I came for the food,” he shrugged, as he poured himself a glass of cheap table wine. 

“Fine, then we’re done here,” Kurapika tried his best to dismiss his feeling of annoyance. He quickly got up from the table, plate and glass as empty as it had been since he sat down.

He felt a warm hand squeeze his shoulder and turned around to face a very determined Gon. His large brown eyes were brimming with so much persistence, that Kurapika found it hard not to listen. 

“I know in the long run we can’t stop you. You can easily sneak your way around and figure this out on your own, but please. Let us help you.”

“You can’t—.”

“Because we’re your friends,” Gon grinned. “We really want to do this, don’t we Killua?” 

“Eh, I mean I guess,” Killua shrugged. “This was more of Gon’s plan but I’ve been through worse.”

“We’ve been through so much together, and I don’t want you to do it alone. I don’t know where I’d be right without all of you guys, and I don’t want you to get lost on your way too,” Gon beamed. He pulled Kurapika into a tight hug, which the blonde didn’t expect.

Usually, even with begging, Kurapika’s answer would have been a hard no. However, as adamant of a person as he was, he knew going in this alone would be murder. He couldn’t help the small swelling in his chest knowing Gon cared this much. 

The chain user lightly patted Gon’s back in affirmation, as he let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Ok, ok, you guys can help.”

Gon loudly cheered as he squeezed Kurapika tighter.

“I’m really glad we’re all together again!” he exclaimed happily, as he motioned for Leorio and KIllua to get into his hugging action. 

“Gon, why are you like this?,” Killua groaned. He stood fixed to his spot, refusing to participate in Gon’s friendship activity. 

Gon grabbed Killua’s wrist and roughly tugged him into the mesh, giving his best friend no choice in the matter. Killua’s body hit Kurapika’s in the process as Gon tried to hug both of his friends at the same time. As bothered as Kurapika and Killua were, they didn’t do much to stop Gon.

“Come on Leorio,” Gon beckoned. 

He smiled at his friends, and marveled at how Gon could say things that would take him years to utter. Leorio approached the huddle, and being much taller, he settled for affectionately ruffling Gon’s hair.

“Ok, I’m actually starting to suffocate,” Kurapika complained. 

Gon let go of the blonde and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry, got a little carried away there. All of us have been together this week more than we have been in the last couple of years, and just the fact that we’re working together makes me pretty happy,” Gon said excitedly. 

“You can celebrate today, but tomorrow is all business. We’ll start planning out this mission in the morning ok,” he said sternly.   


Gon nodded, staring hard at Killua, trying to share his excitement with his best friend

Past Kurapika’s irritated expression was a much lighter feeling. It’s been so long since he’s felt any type of genuine companionship, and it’s something he once enjoyed when he was much younger.  

“Well now that you’ve finally gotten that pout off your face, maybe it’s time to actually join us for dinner,” Leorio suggested, offering Kurapika back his seat at the table. 

Kurapika rolled his eyes and sat in his seat, heeding Leorio’s instructions.

* * *

 

“Are you sure Kurapika?”

Gon watched the blonde clear the dinnerware from the table. He tried several times to help, but his offer was deterred by Kurapika each time. 

“For the last time Gon, I’m fine. Plus you guys set up the table so I don’t really mind cleaning up, and I slept in the afternoon so I have a bunch of energy that I have nothing to use on.”

“But it’s really no big deal, I help aunt Mito clean all the time! Plus Ikalgo is prepping for the restaurant tomorrow so he won’t be able to help you clean up.”

Meanwhile, Killua practiced yoyo tricks in the corner, patiently waiting for Gon to end his argument. Leorio tried to learn along with Killua, but found the weight of the yoyo’s too difficult to handle. 

“It’ll make him happy if we get some rest,” Killua called out, as he carefully tried to make a perfect eiffel tower with the titanium strings. 

Kurapika nodded at Killua’s statement, while Gon frowned. “Gon I  _ want _ to clean the kitchen by myself.”

“Ok… But I’ll see you tomorrow right?” 

“Yes Gon. Mizaistom would have my head if I tried to wiggle out of this one,” he grimaced. He felt the spike of hatred in his stomach, for out of all the people Mizaistom could’ve chosen, of course it would be the handful of people he cared about most. However, also knew how qualified they were for this type of mission.

“Ok, but don’t say I didn’t try to help,” Gon warned.    


Kurapika shooed him off with the dirty washcloth. “Gon,  _ go. _ ” 

He shot Killua a stare which prompted the assassin to pull Gon’s shirt, dragging him into the hall and away from the kitchen. 

“Why aren’t you dragging Leorio away,” Gon complained down the hallway.

“Cause he’s not being annoying like you,” Killua answered back, their voices growing fainter by the second. 

“I meant what I said before Leorio, I got this,” Kurapika said. He eyed the taller man from the corner of his eye. 

“Killua and I actually didn’t help much with set up, this whole thing was pretty much Ikalgo. I’d feel guilty if I didn’t even help out a little,” he admitted. He carefully stacked different sized bowls together, precariously balancing the expensive China on an already moving vessel. 

“You’re doing it wrong, that’s all going to fall,” Kurapika chastised as he reached over to take the pile off of Leorio’s hands. 

“Yea but I like living on the edge,” he answered. 

Leorio followed Kurapika straight into the dish room, amazed by how poised Kurapika looked while balancing over a dozen plates. If he didn't know any better, he would’ve mistaken the blonde for a Zoldyck butler.

Kurapika clicked his tongue at Leorio. He carefully placed the silverware next to the sink, and helped Leorio out with his mess of a pile.

“You’re really good at stacking those,” Leorio said, suddenly aware of how tall, clumsy and awkward he was compared to Kurapika. 

“The Kurta travel a lot, we had to learn how to do practically everything on the backs of Lukos chickens.”

Leorio had only seen Kurapika in battle a handful of times, but everytime Kurapika fought like he was in the middle of a well choreographed dance. His blows were clean and well calculated, striking with such thought and precision. He thought about his own combat ability, and found them useless next to Kurapika’s. Even his hatsu wasn’t one that was meant to be used for combat, and for the first time he felt like he had no place beside his friends. 

“I’ll wash, you dry,” Kurapika said, while he handed Leorio a clean dish towel. 

The sound of running water and light clinking of plates filled the modest sized dish room. The tepid feeling in Leorio’s chest didn’t leave. He briefly wondered, in a world without nen, in different circumstances, what would have happened to the both of them. Without Kurapika’s driven anger and passion, would he have been the same person?

The thought stirred both relief and panic within his chest. Everything he solidly knew about his life (and preferences) had been turned upside down in the last week or so, and he caught himself thinking about this newfound realization far too often. 

“Leorio,” Kurapika called out. 

Kurapika pulled out the last plate from the sink. The suds quickly disappeared from his forearm, as he patiently held out the clean china. 

“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” Kurapika commented. 

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” 

“Normally yes, but it’s to the point where I think I should be concerned.” Kurapika knew Leorio well enough to understand his body language. He watched the taller man fumble with the right words to say. 

Leorio dried his damp hands with paper towels, his white sleeves were rolled all the way up to his elbows. The mental imagery of Leorio preparing himself to go into a surgery popped into Kurapika’s head. There were a handful of times he’s tried to save people, but not in the same way as Leorio had. Unfortunately, he only had room in his heart and mind to care for the wellbeing of people who earned it. The fact that Leorio, someone who was initially so rude, obnoxious, and ignorant, had decided to go into the medical field for a completely selfless reason was almost endearing to Kurapika. 

Instead of being wrathful and bitter over his pain, Leorio decided to make something noble out of it, while Kurapika left himself to fester in those negative emotions. He envied how he wasn’t able to move onto his past as easily as his other friends, but by this point it was the only real drive he had. 

“Work has been rough the past few days, I’ve just been more drained than I usually am,” Leorio answered. 

“That’s usually my excuse,” Kurapika smirked. 

“Nah it’s just stress a lot of small personal things I shouldn’t even be stressing about,” he lied. 

Kurapika chose not to pry further. The room suddenly seemed a lot more big after silence fell amongst the old friends.

“It’s getting pretty dark out, I should go soon,” Leorio said.

Kurapika couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment, and he didn’t understand why it was there in the first place. It’s not like like particularly wanted Leorio to stay longer, but the tugging feeling of having something happen was still in his conscious.

“I thought you were here to talk,” Kurapika unintentionally blurted out. “You had me cornered here and I have no valid excuse to leave so I thought—.”

“Although you have a great point, I didn’t come here to force you to talk to me. Killua was outside of my office building and he invited me over.”

“Then why’d you stay and help clean?” 

“Cause I’m genuinely wanted to help out,” Leorio laughed. “And I was honestly surprised you let me, seeing how you ran Gon out of here.”

“Well, you have me here now, and for the past few days you’ve been insistent.”

“And on the day I don’t feel like talking you push it?”

“Because you said it was important to you,” Kurapika said irritably. “And if you weren’t up for talking, then why are you even here?” 

“I wanted to be around your company,” Leorio argued back.. “And yea I guess we can go through all the things I was angry at you about. How you suck at answering your phone and you don’t treat your friends as well as you should and how you take our care for granted, but tonight, I’m having a good time and I just want to hang out.”

He felt his face heat up at the sentiment. Usually he would exchange light hearted banter with Leorio, and it was rare to see him be so honest and open in such an intimate setting. 

“Doesn’t hanging out require doing things?” 

“Haven’t you hung out with anyone before? For the sake of hanging out?”

“Not since Pairo,” he confessed. 

Kurapika felt light embarrassment over his inexperience in social situations. Even when he had family, the village was small, and his friends were limited. 

“It’s not like it’s a hard thing. It’s just something people do naturally. Just enjoy each other company in silence.”

“And you enjoy my company?” Kurapika raised an eyebrow as his eyes glanced onto Leorio’s strong jawline. The purple bruise stood out proudly under the stubble. 

“I don’t get it often.”

“The last time I saw you, I punched you in the face. Wanting to be around me seems pretty masochistic,” Kurapika mused. 

“I’ve been told,” Leorio replied. 

“Let me see,” Kurapika demanded rather than requested. He stood close to Leorio hovering his hand over the bruise he created. He waited for Leorio to nod before gently running his fingers on underneath Leorio’s jawline. 

Their friendship had always been an unspoken subject between them. They both knew that standing alongside Kurapika was no easy task, and no matter how hard he tried to push people like Leorio and Gon away, they'd find their way back in. He’d ignore the worried expression that Leorio would try to hide, he’d muffle sounds of Leorio telling him to take a break, go back, to not push himself, and he’d feel that uneasy feeling in his chest every time Leorio would just let him go. 

The calls were less and infrequent and Leorio no longer tried to pull any information out of Kurapika. Topics were avoided and meetings were more brief and less personal, and although he told himself it was for the best, he gained a greater sense of loneliness. 

However, Leorio always managed to put time aside for him, even if it was brief. Kurapika would feel a constant, somewhere where he was grounded. The thought terrified him; knowing he had roots only meant more weakness. 

Leorio looked down at Kurapika, studying his features. He found it funny how both of them came from somewhat limited backgrounds, Leorio living on the very poor outskirts of town and Kurapika residing in uncharted backwoods. However, with his fair skin, blonde hair, and petite stature, Leorio thought he could easily be mistaken for someone with regal bloodline. Kurapika carried himself proudly with the utmost finesse and grace, and it was almost impossible to see his built up rage when he chose to hide it. 

With such a young boyish face that Kurapika seemed to never grow out of, Leorio wondered how someone who looked like him could hold so much hate in his heart.

Kurapika’s fingertips stayed there longer than they should have, and Leorio suddenly felt both the need to instinctively back away, and the want to lean in closer. The prolonged silence and closed space was enough to make an awkward situation, but neither of them did anything about it. 

“Hey.” Leorio’s voice sounded low and rough sounding, like his words were in the middle of properly being processed. 

“Sorry for spacing out,” Kurapika responded, his voice barely above a whisper. Whether he was apologizing for the bruise, or the situation, or for everything overall, neither of them knew. “I think I may have something to help this heal quicker.”

“It’s fine, I just..” Leorio’s voice trailed off as he looked at Kurapika’s patient and expectant face. He should’ve been irritated by how the only time he managed to get his friend to listen, was the only time he was at a loss of words. “ I need to figure out what I need to say,” he confessed. 

He thought about Killua and their conversation earlier that day. He thought about how his mind told him to think things true, how to not come today. He remembered how his heart willed him to walk aboard Ikalgo’s ship, how it yearned for solace in its muddled state. He was confused and was acting irrationally, but Leorio desperately wanted to get some type of answer for whatever he was feeling for his friend who he cared too much about. 

“Must be a lot you need to tell me,” Kurapika murmured.

The situation was close, and more intimate than they would both care to admit, but neither of them knew what to make of it. The non-playful tone of this whole thing was unnerving for Kurapika. The seriousness felt different, but they both managed to welcome it, curiously wondering what would come of it. 

“I don’t really know how to,” he replied. The words in his head were all jumbled up, but as confused as his feelings were, he was certain they were there. Leorio had rehashed his worries and concerns more than he could count, but this was the first time his apprehension was linked to something more selfish. 

“Then maybe another time,” Kurapika suggested. He slowly pulled his hand away, ignoring the disappointment that was was beginning to set. 

“Yea, maybe that’s better,” Leorio agreed. Leorio always found it hard to hide his emotions and today was no exception. His disappointment showed heavily on his face, and his shoulders sagged with tiredness and relief. 

They heard a clatter come from outside of the dish room as Ikalgo burst into the area. He carefully held various pots and cooking wear in each tentacle hoping to return them to their proper home. 

“Didn’t know you men were still here,” he laughed heartily. “Thanks for cleaning up out there, Leorio, do you think you can place this up in the cabinet for me?”  He handed a pot to Leorio, and pointed at an empty section in one of the top most parts of the cabinet.

“I’m just about to head out,” Leorio replied while he expertly placed the kitchen ware into the harder to reach areas of the pantry. His demeanor quickly changed from troublesome to friendly, like that whole encounter never happened. 

Leorio and Ikalgo talked for a bit and after a short while, he bid them both farewell, leaving Kurapika to feel more empty than he had felt prior to waking up.

* * *

Unfortunately, the SS Kumogi was old enough to not have proper heat installed within the ship walls. Kurapika clutched his traditional Kurta quilt around his thin frame as the cold seeped into his room. Having a terrible sleep schedule meant long quiet nights with only the company of warm tea and a good book on the days Kurapika could afford the time. However, the cold was too rough for him to concentrate, and even a good book couldn't distract the loud thoughts that crowded his brain.

“Something on your mind sailor?” Ikalgo asked, breaking Kurapika out of his reverie. 

“Getting used to the new environment,” he answered kindly. “It’s quite relaxing, albeit different.”

“She grows on you that she does,” Ikalgo smiled. He wriggled himself into the chair located next to Kurapika’s nightstand, his long orange tendrils nursing his own cup of tea. 

“Would you.. Like to talk about something?” 

Kurapika tried to keep his tone polite as he eyed the giant octopus. Although Ikalgo was gracious enough to allow Kurapika to stay in his humble abode, Kurapika hoped to give off the impression that he was naturally a quiet creature that needed peace. 

“I’d like to think of myself as a very intuitive man,” Ikalgo continued, completely ignoring Kurapika’s question.

“That’s nice of you to tell me that, but it’s rather late so I think it’s best if I get to be—,”

“And I can see true emotion when I see it,” Ikalgo replied. 

“Excuse me?” Kurapika said. All traces of politeness dripped of his face,  only to be left with his familiar irritated scowl. 

“You and Leorio, back there in the dish room. That man cares about you and be a fool if you didn’t see it yourself.”

“Were you spying on us?” 

“The SS Komugi has many cracks and crevices even I’m not familiar with, It’s not my fault if I accidentally happen to pass by one.”

“Regardless, I don’t see how this is any of your business,” Kurapika answered, more rude than he intended to sound. 

“Aye, that it isn’t, but it pains me to see a situation so easily solvable by communication.” Ikalgo clicked his tongue at the thought of the unsatisfactory situation. 

“I’m sure whatever he needs to tell me, he can tell me himself.”

“Not when you act like the most unrelentless clam I’ve ever encountered. It must take a lot of steam to get you to open up even a little.”

“Leorio cares about everyone, that’s just who he is.”

“Kurapika, you seem like a smart man, you know that’s not what I meant. If you’d stop trying to divert questions you don’t want to answer, you’d save a lot more time and energy”

Kurapika pursed his lips, glaring at the orange bald cephalopod. He often wondered how always had energy to plot his revenge, but always found it exhausting when having to face emotions. He didn’t like how this judgemental octopus was currently trying to figure out his non existent love life for him, but he figured he was far too done with this week to fight someone with six extra arms.

“There’s no use in denying it, I’ve only seen one other person have a look that heartbreaking, and I can’t help that good for nothing brat either,” Ikalgo sighed, not pressing the subject further.  “Anyways, what I’m trying to say is either come to terms with your emotions, or let the poor guy go and stop dragging him along. Leorio looks resilient, like a man that can withstand the test of time regardless of how impatient he acts. But that doesn’t mean he should.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to drag him around. I don’t even know if what you’re saying is fact or if this some type of over romanticized garbage you’ve conjured up,” Kurapika argued. 

“Hey, I might have a flair of dramatism, but I’ve lived on this Earth longer than you have and know what I see is true. I don’t know you well enough to know everything about you, but the look of longing is universal, and you hide it well but not well enough. Plus your faces were so close together, you should’ve seen it, it was like this.” Ikalgo brought his two tentacles together, bringing them almost close enough to touch. “You could cut that tension with a knife.”

“Ok, I think that’s enough. Goodnight Ikalgo.” he said sternly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, the agitation was beginning to give him a headache. 

“Aye you’re a stubborn one, but I hope my blunt way of approaching things knocked something in that steel heart of yours.” Ikalgo’s tone was much kinder than he anticipated, but it still held an air of disdain. He slipped out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. 

Kurapika sat still on his bed for a while, the dawning realization hitting his chest like a brick. 

Ikalgo did manage to rattle something inside him, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that my friends, is how kurapika was completely schooled by a talking octopus


End file.
